


A Godfather's Promise

by TheMetalSage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bisexual Female Character, Bondage, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Food Sex, Foot Fetish, Harry Potter was Raised by Sirius Black, Latex, Maledom/Femsub, Multi, Polyamory, Romance, Threesome - F/F/F, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-06-12 16:25:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 168,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15343806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMetalSage/pseuds/TheMetalSage
Summary: A promise made before the fateful night changed the future of Harry Potter-Black. Now on his fourth year, he has to face the Triwizard Tournament, his failing friendships, and live up to his ancestors. All of this while dealing with an increasing attraction to a French flower.





	1. Prologue

**"Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Welcome to the re-edited version of "A Godfather's Promise", previously known as "Fleur's Kinky Contract".**

**If you are not in the know about this story, it was initially conceived as a BDSM one-shot between Harry and Fleur that I made for DeviantArt. That story eventually became a multi-chapter story that would span throughout GoF called "Fleur's Kinky Contract", and** **_that_ ** **story became the probably epic length romance that I now call "A Godfather's Promise", which will probably end up spanning all the way until the end of the war.**

**The ambitious nature of the story increased, but the main themes still remain. Mainly speaking: a dom/sub relationship between Harry Potter as the dominant, and Fleur Delacour as the submissive. With the chance of a couple of other witches being added as we go along due to political reasons.**

**Needless to say, if you below 18 years of age, begone.**

**A Godfather's Promise: Prologue**

The humid air marked the beginning of summer. The changing of season would usually mark the better times in the British Isles, bringing joy to it's inhabitants due to the change of the cold and rainy weather that manifested itself during a large part of the year. This usually cheerful change however, was not in the minds of the two figures seen sitting down on the living room of a particular residence in Godric's Hollow.

"Promise me," said the tall, bespectacled one.

"Okay," responded the other, shorter figure.

"Say it, Sirius," insisted James Potter, one of the only two descendants of the once powerful and influential House of Potter. His once positive and charismatic demeanor had taken a hit since leaving Hogwarts. This more mature James was shaken from the death of his parents, and the fact that he now had to protect the two most important people in his life.

"Prongs, I said okay," responded Sirius Black: best friend and partner in crime since childhood of the Potter patriarch. He too had changed, the war had seen to that; damned by his own family, which he was now ironically the head of.

"Okay is not enough, promise me," countered James. "Promise me that Harry comes first. Nothing else, not revenge, not justice, not the DMLE, not even the Order. If something happens to me and Lil-"

Sirius stands up, an angry look on his face. "Nothing will happen to you James! Nothing!"

James stands up as well. "Haven't enough of our friends died?! This war has taken them! Voldemort has taken them from us!" Anger leaving him, James adds almost pleadingly. "I need you to promise me that you will look out for him! He is my son, your godson, if anyone will live, it has to be him! Swear to me, Sirius, swear you will take care of him!"

Sirius sighed. "I swear you James, but at least Dumbledore must know of your decision to change who your Secret Keeper is."

"Very well, but only Dumbledore, no one else knows about Peter."

* * *

_'The rat!'_

_'That stinking traitorous worm!'_

_'How could he do it?!'_

_'Why?!'_

The thoughts flew by Sirius, one after another as he knelt by his best friend's lifeless body. His brother in all but name, James had been there for him when his mother disowned him. He had given him a home in Potter Manor with his own family. When he needed the parents he always wanted, James' parents filled that role as well.

Charlus Potter had been like the father he never had, tall just like his son, with the same colored hair and eyes. Captain Charlus Potter was a sight to behold all the way until his defiant death at the hands of Voldemort. Dorea, Charlus' wife, came from the same family as he had, disowned because she had dared to marry a blood traitor, she understood well what Black youth had been going through. The thoughts of those happy days were numb to him now, numb just like James' corpse.

He tried to see if he could remember them still. How they had laughed at Hogwarts, how they had become the best of friends, how he stood as the best man when James married the beautiful Muggle-Born witch known as Lily Potter.

The memories were now tainted forever. Despair was enveloping him further and further.

_'Why am I still here? Why wasn't it me? Take me away! Not James!'_

A whimpering cry broke his train of thoughts.

_'Harry.'_

Sirius rushed up the stairs, through the hallway and saw a door blasted open. Inside he saw another lifeless body. Even face down the vibrant red hair gave her identity away.

_'Lily.'_

In the crib, the source of the noise was thrashing lightly calling out for attention from anyone that could hear him.

The Black patriarch walked over, taking the child into his hands, rocking him until he calms down and drifts to a peaceful slumber. In the end the only sobs came from Sirius himself.

_'I swear to you James, I swear to you.'_

**Yeah, I made some new changes to the prologue, added a little more spice. I am fixing all the errors I have made previously. If you like this story, review or send a PM. Thank you so much for giving this story a chance.**

**The Metal Sage**


	2. Another Perfect Day

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**This is an M-Rated story that includes sexual elements pertaining to the BDSM lifestyle. It also includes violence, language and gore. Do not read if you are below the age of 18.**

**Review Responses:**

**Gensplejs:** _**I always felt that Fleur was in serious need of a good spanking.** _

**Don't worry, she'll be getting plenty of that, amongst other things. Will take a few chapters though.**

**albus potter-greengrass:** _**that I know dorea was never disinherited from the black line for marrying charlus potter** _

**True, but Charlus is also not James' father in canon, thought I'd give Sirius a bit of his biological family that understood him. Besides, it sounds just like the thing the Black family would do if they married a family known for consorting with Muggles and Muggle-Borns (something that you will see explained in this chapter). It also gives Harry direct ancestry to the Black family.**

**Just chalk it up to fanfiction being fanfiction.**

**On to the chapter**

**REVISED ON 26/3/2018**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter I: Another Perfect Day**

"Harry Potter-Black!" came the commanding voice of the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The name that was so famous across the Wizarding World echoing throughout the walls.

You could hear a pin drop from the silence inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The announcement came immediately after the great burning chalice situated in the middle of the Hall delivered a fourth unexpected name, an unprecedented fourth competitor in the "Triwizard" Tournament.

"God fucking damn it!" shouted Harry. ' _Was one normal year too much to ask? Just one?'_

A sneering voice was heard from the Slytherin table. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for inappropriate language, Potter."

Ignoring the Potions master, the dark-haired wizard resigned himself to towards a door where the three other chosen champions had disappeared through. While he walked over, thoughts drifted from his situation towards his godfather.  _What will he say now?_

Knowing him, something along the lines of: "Trouble loves to follow you like I love to follow a good bum."

' _Another year of looking behind my back.'_

After the attack on his family, which left him an orphan, his godfather, Sirius Black took up the mantle as his caretaker and father figure. He had been exonerated by Albus Dumbledore after being he told the authorities that the true Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm was Peter Pettigrew, the traitor that had cost James and Lily Potter their lives.

Harry knew he could count on Sirius for anything, the man had raised him to be confident, to be strong and achieve better than the rest. Ever since he was young enough to remember he knew what being a Potter meant, what he had to live up to, add in the fact that thanks to a Death Eater attack Sirius had been rendered infertile, an event that lead him to claim that Harry would be his heir to the title of Lord Black – much to the chagrin of Lucius Malfoy – doubling the already high expectations Harry had set out for himself.

To bring back the reputation and power of the House of Potter was not going to be a possible task for a mediocre weak boy. He had a lot to live up to and he needed to be the best in order to achieve it.

He also raised him to have an eye for bending the rules and the fairer sex, the latter of which he didn't start to notice until late last year, much to the animagus' amusement. "You will start breaking hearts like your old man in no time".

' _Sometimes, he really needs to lay off the Playboy magazines'_ Harry mused to himself as the distance between his seat in the Great Hall and the side chamber shortened.

' _Then again if he does he'll just bring another_ acquaintance  _back home'_ Some things do never change, he could always count on Sirius to never change, but mostly for the better.

Reaching his destination, he was met with three figures standing side by side alongside the fireplace.

The first one he knew, he is his upperclassman and was known for being currently the top of his year; talented and on track to being Head boy next year, Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff and the Hogwarts Champion.

' _One of the champions at least_ ,' Harry thought sourly

However, he knew the grey eyed older boy better as the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and fellow seeker. He considered him a great rival and other than himself, Diggory was the best seeker in Hogwarts.

Cedric was considered good looking by the rest of the school – especially the female population – with his dark hair and gray eyes. His Quidditch training also gave him an athlete's body, well built for the rigors of the sport. Unfortunately for the young witches of Hogwarts, he was known to be dating Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw fifth-year.

Harry had been slightly attracted to the Asian girl, but eventually decided to go against it once he found out that she had been eyeing the Hufflepuff captain.

The Potter heir considered Cedric to be a worthy rival. Last year he had gone toe to toe with him in the Quidditch field, fighting to be the first to catch the snitch, it was one of the best games Harry had participated in… that is until a flock of dementors descended upon him and caused the dark-haired wizard to lose control of his broom and fell into unconsciousness. Cedric had caught the snitch, but after realizing Harry's condition, he offered a rematch.

' _More honorable than most this one,'_

Harry still appreciated the sentiment.

Speaking of seekers…

The second figure was a bonafide wizard celebrity, his popularity was second only to Harry's. Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion, was not as impressive at first glance. Some might say that he was thick or boorish. But Harry knew enough that looks can always deceive. He realized that when he first witnessed Krum in his broom during the Quidditch World Cup. The Bulgarian's performance was so impressive that even Harry is willing to admit that his flying capabilities were superior to his own.

Despite his simple demeanor, Harry was not willing to underestimate his talents; he was chosen to be in this tournament after all, there was probably more talent in the Bulgarian wizard than just flying. If Diggory's talent is to be believed, then Krum was probably more than just skilled in his wand-wielding prowess.

The last champion was a woman.

Unlike the other two, Harry was not familiar with her, aside from her seemingly unconscious ability to make almost every male – and more than a few females – turn into a drooling simpleton, the only thing is that she was apparently named Fleur, the champion for France's Beauxbatons Academy.

Also, she was a Veela.

Or at least that was what he supposed she was, considering the reaction she got from people. Not one week since she had arrived and she already had a group of followers from both Durmstrang and Hogwarts that were looking to impress her, only to look absolutely ridiculous in their attempts to gain her attention. Even the hardline blood purists were not spared by her charms. The only guys who seemed to be able to keep themselves in check excluding the Hogwarts staff were Cedric, Krum, Neville Longbottom, and Harry himself. Luckily for all involved, three of those four individuals were in the room.

When looking at the spectacles her followers would enact with the hope of convincing her to look upon them favorably, the attractive French witch would just look at them like they were some disgusting thing that she had accidentally stepped on. With an upturned nose and a condescending look, she would turn the other direction and quickly leave the area.

Harry would find it extremely amusing if she did not remind him of a female version of Malfoy and the other aristocratic purebloods. ' _Now that I think about it, the Malfoy family originated from France'_ Harry mused to himself. ' _Maybe it's just a French thing, they do seem to turn their nose at us quite often. Right up until they need our help with the Germans.'_

Not that Harry couldn't see why she the reason people drooled at her, she was definitely drool-worthy. Silvery hair framed a perfectly angular face, between her defined cheekbones, twin blue eyes seemed to glow like perfectly cut sapphires. She had the kind of body most Muggle fashion magazines would pay top dollar to model for them, her tall, fit, willowy figure sported a generous C-cup bosom, and even though her uniform hid a large part of her body, he was willing to bet she had the most killer legs a man could dream of. Her pink, full lips were bereft of any make-up, she probably didn't need any of it.

Harry had seen Veela before, of course. During the summer, Sirius took him to the Quidditch World Cup to see the game between Ireland and Bulgaria. The Bulgarian team had decided to form their cheerleading team entirely out of Veela. The male spectators in the audience went wild at the sight of them. From his seat, he even saw some of them nearly throw themselves from a height that would surely have crippled or killed them.

Even Sirius was captivated, didn't do anything severely stupid but he did stand from his seat and start to walk over to them. Harry brought him back to reality with a firm shake. Harry himself - while certainly captivated, he was male in the middle of puberty after all - managed to control himself admirably.

' _Sirius probably was thinking I wasn't interested in women, cursing himself for failing to raise me like my Father, ladies' man that he was,'_ Thought Harry, but Remus also managed to control himself. ' _I guess resisting a veela's charms is not as challenging as trying to prevent a werewolf transformation.'_

The witch in front of him was just as attractive. Probably even more so than the rest of the other Veela.

The sound of the younger wizard approaching caught the attention of the three champions. They looked at him curiously, probably wondering why a younger student would be approaching the chamber while they had expected the Tournament organizers along with the teachers.

The Beauxbatons champion was the first to break the silence.

"What is eet?" said the French witch, her musical voice carrying a thick ethnic accent. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

' _The accent makes her even more attractive,'_ Harry mused to himself.

Beside her, Krum also turned around to look at him, his previously boorish demeanor replaced by a gaze of curiosity. Cedric on the other hand had a confused look on his face.

Harry sighed, not really knowing how to explain the events that had occurred in the Great Hall after they had left. Even he was trying to come to terms with it. He didn't put his name on the Goblet. He was hoping to focus heavily on his grades this year so that he might be on the top of the year. Last year he had surprised the entire staff by replacing Hermione Granger as the number one student in his year. Just like most of his life after he had been re-introduced to the Wizarding World in his first year at Hogwarts, those plans seemed to have hit a roadblock.

' _Why does it always happen?'_ Thought Harry. ' _Can't I have control of the situation? Just once in my life I don't want the wheels of my fate turning without my knowledge.'_

Just as he was trying to formulate a response, there were more sounds coming behind him, several footsteps yanked the attention away from the emerald eyed wizard and to the figure of Ludo Bagman – one of the organizers of the Tournament – entering the chamber behind him.

"Extraordinary". He said to the champions. "Gentlemen… and lady, may I present the  _fourth_  Triwizard champion".

The announcement sent various reactions for the other champions: Cedric looked like he had misheard the organizer. Krum on the other hand appeared to have had heard Bagman clearly and was now staring a Harry with a mix of curiosity and hostility.

Fleur Delacour smiled however and was the first to break the silence "Oh, zat is a vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Tis no joke, my lady," responded Bagman. Harry noticed that his eyes glassed over a bit when he turned to look at the stunning female champion. Quickly, Bagman composed himself, a testament to his mental endurance. "Not a joke at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire just now, everyone saw it!"

At the news, Cedric still appeared to not be convinced this was a bad dream, waiting to be woken up and find out he had dozed off before the professors gave them the instructions for competing. Viktor on the other hand narrowed his eyes even more, looking like he wanted to protest but couldn't find the right words. Luckily for him, his fellow champion once again decided to speak her opinion.

"Zen zair 'as been a mistake," she said assuredly. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young"

' _And there is the downside,'_  Harry disliked being look down upon, he considered himself more mature than his age, he had to be if he was going to reach his goals. The jab at him made him more annoyed at the French veela. ' _Maybe she and Malfoy could be related.'_

"No mistake can be made in this Tournament, Ms. Delacour. The goblet is fool-proof, charmed by the great Albus Dumbledore himself." Responded Ludo, once again straining to maintain his composure in front of the French witch. "In any case, now that his name has been chosen by the Goblet, there is no backing out now, you have all entered a legally binding magical contract." He revealed, Cedric was now widening in his eyes in the realization that no, this was not a figment of his imagination at all. "Harry will just have to do the best he – ".

Bagman was interrupted by the door swinging open and a large number of professors pouring into the chamber, the sounds of the commotion from the Great Hall following them until the door was closed.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur exclaimed to the giant headmistress of Beauxbatons. "Zey are saying zat zis leetle boy is to compete also!"

For Harry, annoyance quickly turned to anger. ' _What do you know about me, you arrogant continental tart!'_ In an action defying common sense Harry walked over to stand side by side with the other champions.

The intention was clear, it was harder to disrespect him when she realized he was around the same height as her, though her small heels gave her the slight advantage, the fact that he was almost three younger was a statement to his rapidly maturing body. The action caused the other two champions to look at him with a little more respect.

Harry was calming himself down little by little but was still internally fuming. Fleur on the other hand was looking at him, probably expecting him to try and do something to win her affection, like all the other males she was used to. However, looking towards upwards to him, instead of the usual glassy eyed stare, the twin green emeralds displayed something she had never seen directed at her before from any male:

Anger.

Harry had always been a little proud of his height, being the tallest student in his year, he was even above most of the fifth years and more than a few sixth years. Sirius said that his father was the same way, as well as all the Potters before him. Harry supposed that it could be due to the Potter military tradition and ancestry.

The Potter family was known to be the oldest family in Wizarding Britain, mainly because the Potters did not originate from Britain at all. The Potter family, or the gens Poteria could trace its origins to the patrician families of Rome. The patricians were the original Roman families that rose up in rebellion removed the last Roman king -Tarquinius Superbus - from power, thus establishing the early Roman Republic. Being one of the original patrician families, the gens Poteria were known for helping to establish the early Roman militias, that would one day conquer the Mediterranean. As was expected of the Patricians, they also took part in the campaigns as generals and even Consuls.

A great part of Roman success in the battlefield could be accounted to the gens Poteria as well as other early Roman magical families' use of charms in the equipment of their soldiers, something other civilizations had failed to do, and payed dearly for. These newly invented charms, combined with the discipline instilled within the ranks, destroyed every opponent from the Italian tribes, the tribes in Spain, the proud Greeks, and even the mighty Carthaginians.

During the last days of the Republic, Lucius Poterius Magnus decided to side with the Caesar's, one of the only patrician families to do so. He gambled correctly, and his grandson was tasked by Emperor Claudius to conquer Britain, after Caesar had failed to do so during his campaigns in Gaul. Of course, the muggle history books would tell you the general tasked with this was Aulus Plautius, a name invented at the behest of House Potter after the establishment of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Rewarded with the governorship of Britain, the gens Poteria survived the fall of the Western Roman Empire and renamed itself to the more Saxon-friendly sounding House Potter.

The name may have changed, but the traditions didn't. Throughout their entire history: Potter males were expected to serve within the Muggle militaries, a tradition followed even by Major Richard Potter – Harry's great grandfather – who fought at the battle of the Frontiers, the Marne, and Passchendaele during the Great War, and Captain Charlus Potter: ace pilot of the RAF during the Battle of Britain. Sirius said his grandfather's charmed and rune covered Supermarine Spitfire MK I was still stored in Potter manor, along with all the other military heirlooms of the Potters.

This tradition was…  _controversial_ , to say the least with the pureblood families. After the Statute of Secrecy was erected, House Potter was known to recruit Muggle-Borns, Squibs, and Muggle relatives into their militaries, something that was an affront to the sensibilities of the traditional British wizards. It definitely paid off though, especially during the days of the British Empire, which saw the most profitable time for the Potters since the Roman Empire, allowing them a large manor, as well as major holdings within muggle companies.

The only person to break tradition was unfortunately James Potter, due to his early death. Harry however, was looking to joining the Royal Marines when he became of age. This was only one thing that Harry felt he had to live up to. In Potter manor, his godfather had told him there was a room where all the marble busts from the first Poteria until his father was stored - in true Roman patrician tradition - under each was a placard naming their vast accomplishments. Harry would be damned if he became the first Potter to not achieve the best in his life.

Roman generals, knights, Imperial admirals, privateers, captains, and leaders were his ancestors. Harry drove himself every day to be just like them.

He had already done quite a few feats in his early age, incapacitating a troll and killing a Death Eater posing as a teacher in his first year, as well as becoming the youngest seeker in centuries. He had mastered the Patronus charm before he hit when most adults struggled to even cast an incomplete one, almost capturing a discovered Peter Pettigrew in a year when dementors seemed to want to make his life miserable. He was a talented martial arts student and soccer player when he was in the Muggle world. He had even killed a thousand-year-old basilisk… with a sword!

And now this arrogant and pampered Parisian bint was disrespecting him!?

' _I would love to see your pretty little French arse go against a fully-grown basilisk!_ Harry ranted internally.'

Madam Maxine broke the silence in the room.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said, her accent even thicker than her student's. It sounded less sexy coming from her mouth as well.

"I'd would rather know that myself, Dumbledore," Karkaroff's rough voice interjected. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

" 'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. Eet is most unjust," Maxime agreed, walking over to a slightly shaken Fleur to place her hands on her shoulders.

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

A drawling voice made itself known. "The only fault here lies with Mr. Potter-Black," said professor Snape, his condescending tone making Harry even angrier than he already was. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's tendency for rule breaking. He has demonstrated failure for decency ever since he first entered Hogwarts."

If Harry had started to calm down from Fleur's statement earlier, it had returned with a vengeance. One provocation more and he would probably grab his wand and throw a nasty hex at the greasy-haired potions master.

An old hand on Harry's shoulder brought him back to his senses. Professor Dumbledore, looked to him in a grandfatherly manner. Slowly, Harry started to regain his composure.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked him slowly.

"No," answered Harry. Snape snorted derisively at his side

' _Don't test me right now, you greasy-haired cunt. I swear I will- '_

Dumbledore squeezed on his shoulder once again. Harry felt his rage start to quell, Dumbledore must have been using wandless magic to send a calming charm, he realized.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape. "No," said Harry in a half growl.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that —"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

Harry saw McGonagall shoot an angry look at professor Snape and Madam Maxime, appreciating the effort to stand up for him. He made a mental note to leave gift her with an extra expensive brand of firewhisky come Christmas Eve.

It had been a little hard to earn her respect after his mediocre performance in her class during his first year. He was a little more interested in being accepted and making the most number of friends he could, just like his father had before him during his time as a student at Hogwarts.

The confrontation with Quirrell and Voldemort had changed that.

The battle with Quirrell had almost left him dead, his ancient line would have finished in that moment if it hadn't been for an intense explosion of accidental magic that left the secret Death Eater with a smoking hole in his chest.

It changed everything for Harry, the man that had killed his parents was still alive, and he was trying to finish the job he had failed to complete that night in Halloween of 1980. An already ambitious Harry became even more determined. His second year saw him improve in every one of his classes at a dramatic level. Even Snape had reluctantly gave him first place in his year for potions. McGonagall and Flitwick, however told him they saw the talents of both his parents in him. A statement that made him beam with joy.

"— in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff, forcing Harry back to reality. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled Alastor Moody, Harry had heard legends of him from Sirius. A battle hardened auror, he was the very definition of grizzled veteran Harry had read in comic books during his childhood.  _With that missing eye he looks like an even grumpier Nick Fury._

"All champions that submitted their names and were chosen are now under contract, they  _must_  compete," continued Moody. "Quite convenient isn't it," he snarled to Karkaroff.

' _I like this guy a lot better already,'_ Thought Harry.

"What are you implying?" Karkaroff snarled back.

"It's quite simple isn't it, Karkaroff. Whoever put Potter's name into the Goblet knew that he had to compete under the pressure of the magically binding contract," said Moody.

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I agree with Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, glancing at the giant headmistress of Beauxbatons. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the ICW"

"If anyone has a good reason to complain it's Potter," growled Moody "and yet… you don't hear him complaining, do you?"

Harry was about to thank the ex-auror and explain the situation when suddenly a melodic voice that had caused him so much anger in the first place resurfaced.

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot, the very image of a haughty brat. " 'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for! Some of us 'ave struggled for zis chance for a long time, and 'e gets eet as a 'andout! So tell us, why would 'e be complaining!"

Alright, that was it, not even a calming charm from fucking Merlin himself could have changed what happened next.

The dam finally broke.

"Because maybe someone wants me dead!" exploded Harry. Overwhelming anger making sure all reason left his senses, he points at Snape and Karkaroff. "Those two are former  _Death Eaters_! Maybe their loyalty never changed! Other Death Eaters tried to do so in the last three years, why should this one be any differ-!"

"Harry!" shouted Dumbledore, now his two hands grabbing Harry's shoulder, trying to hold back the emerald eyed wizard's rage.

Silence reigned the chamber at his declaration. Both Snape and Karkaroff looked shocked at first but it was then replaced by a positively murderous look in their eyes. Dumbledore tightened his hold on Harry, McGonagall looked bewildered. Turning to his side, both Cedric, Krum, and Fleur looked stunned at the declaration.

Harry shrugged of Dumbledore's grasp and stomped away towards the chamber doorway

_It's happening again. I am a target again. Things are out of my control again. Why is it all against my control? I want to be in control of the situation for once!_

He heard Snape's voice call out to him

"Fifty points from Gryffi-"

"Oh, blow me!" Harry snarled back, not even deigning to look back at the Potions professor.

His hand found the doorknob and twisted it, opening the door, went through it, and then slammed the door so hard he heard several portraits and vases fall off from the other side and glass break.

The Great Hall was empty.

' _One small mercy.'_

He quickly sped up towards the dormitory, emotions storming up as he did so.

' _I shouldn't have done that, it is below me,'_ thought Harry. ' _I should head back, and apologize.'_

But he couldn't, his rage would not allow it. ' _Why am I so mad? Nobody has enraged me this way before. Not Snape, nor Malfoy and his goons, why this time?'_

He remembered the French witch.

He had been insulted before, hell, Snape had said things that made Fleur Delacour's words pale in comparison. So why had he reacted this way?  _Was it her veela charm._ Harry mused to himself. ' _Sirius said I was immune to it. Maybe he was wrong? But isn't it supposed to make you stare at them like a complete imbecile and obey their commands?'_

He guessed it was because she had been the first woman to demean him that way. He had been raised by Sirius to never raise his hand against girls. But there had never been a reason to. In the Muggle World, his female teachers had sung praises for his intelligence and none of his female classmates ever made comments his way. Her final, haughty statement about him was what really set him off. ' _A handout!? Do you know how hard I work every day to be at my best!? I have two and a half millennia of legacy I have to live up to.'_

She was like a Malfoy, one he couldn't bring himself to attack.

When he entered Hogwarts, McGonagall mentioned he could do better than his work in his first year, but after applying himself in his second year, the criticisms turned to praise.

Jabs by Malfoy and other men he could take, most of the time he only had to place his muscular form in front of them and they would retreat back. He could ignore Snape, and still brew a potion so perfectly he begrudgingly had to give top scores. If things turned for the worse he could always rely on good old Muggle style fighting which, given that unlike the virtually the entire wizarding population he actually had training in, he was confident he would come out on top.

' _Fleur Delacour_ ,' His mind drifted towards her. Now that he had seen her closely, he could see why the entirety of the male students were going wild. She was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Even models on Sirius' magazines failed to meet up to her standards. Even in his imaginations he fantasized briefly about the idea of going out with the stunning Veela, before common sense took over of course, unlike his fellow wizards.

It was her personality which brought down those fantasies. A witch like her could probably catch every single muggle and wizard alike, something that she was probably aware of. She looked at the entire population like they were something unsightly she came across while walking on the street. If nobody could catch her attention, why should he be bothered?

' _You are a Potter_ ,' his mind went on despite his common sense, his fingers tracing over the signet ring Sirius had given him after his confrontation with Quirrell, fingers touching the dragon figure that was the symbol of his ancient House. ' _You have the blood of warriors and conquerors, rulers and leaders, your ancestors built empires and brought down their enemies, they led the way and changed history, No one ever defies the Potters, no matter if they are sheep, wolves or lions, all bow before the dragon.'_

With some mental struggle Harry pushed aside his ego, he was not a dragon… yet.

While Harry continued towards the stairways, he noticed professor Dumbledore waiting for him, despite leaving the chamber behind him.

' _Magic,'_ he mused to himself.

Dumbledore gazed at him with a somber look on his face. Harry didn't need words to know that he should accompany the professor back to his office.

* * *

"I meant it. I didn't do it" said Harry.

"I believe you, my boy" responded the Headmaster before opening the door to his office

Dumbledore led him towards his desk and offered Harry to sit down. Dumbledore took his own seat, and gazed at Harry for a few seconds, his eyes a myriad of emotions.

"That was quite a scene back there" he finally said.

"I'm not apologizing" Harry responded.

"I don't expect you to," said Dumbledore. "How  _did_ you know about Severus and Karkaroff? It's supposed to be confidential information."

"Sirius told me," answered Harry, seeing no point in hiding it. "He told me about a  _lot_  of people: Snape, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Yaxley, Mcnair…  _both_  Carrows. You know for someone who is supposed to of have been the most powerful and dangerous dark wizard of all time, there sure as shit are quite a few of his followers operating  _outside_  Azkaban."

"Language, Harry"

"Don't 'language' me, professor," replied Harry. "Why are these people allowed to be outside Azkaban? why are they working in the Ministry? Why are they  _teaching_  students in Hogwarts?"

"Harry," sighed Dumbledore. "Snape and Karkaroff were let go because they became informants during the war. Their identity as former Death Eaters was kept a secret, I had to convince young mister Diggory, mister Krum, and Miss Delacour not to spread rumors."

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble, Headmaster," said Harry. "But I am not sorry for calling a spade a spade, you know what this Tournament is about. Snape and Karkaroff may not have done it, but I will bet my life on the fact that one of their Death Eater fuckbuddies did."

"Language"

"Don't 'language' me. Tell me, did Malfoy sign in on this Tournament?" asked Harry. "Because if he did, then you have definitive proof that something shady is going on here."

Dumbledore sagged in his seat. "What happened to you Harry? You were a cheerful boy when you first entered these halls, I remember you smiling when you were sorted into Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat told me that you had enough ambition to be a Slytherin, so intelligent as to make Rowena proud, and dedication to hard work that every Hufflepuff would envy, but your heart called for Gryffindor. I may not know enough about what your parents to make a guess at what they wanted you to become, but I knew enough about them to know they wanted you to be happy."

"Reality happened, professor," responded Harry. "That Harry died along with Quirrell when I blew out his chest. I live now to become stronger, the only way I can survive is if I become the best, happiness be damned."

"You have separated yourself from Mister Weasley and Miss Granger. Do they no longer matter to you?" Dumbledore asked him, a concerned look in his eyes.

"They drifted away on their own, Ron wants the easy way out, he chose to take Divination and Care of Magical Creatures for an easy grade, I chose Ancient Runes and Arithmancy to become more efficient. He does things quick and easy, I take my time to perfect them. In the end he chose to hang out with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan while I hit the books for more advanced subjects." Harry explained.

"Hermione… she is bright, there is no question, and dedicated. However, I think it really irked her to know that I could get a perfect score without her help. I don't dislike them, there was no big fight between us, they simply… stopped being there. I just… I need to become the best. I need to live up to my name." Harry responded, his fingers once again drifting off to touch the signet ring on his finger.

Dumbledore sighed, then stood up and walked towards Harry. "Harry, you are the most talented person I have ever seen walk through those halls, not even your parents had the same potential as you… not even Tom." He said, wincing slightly. "You have even more talent than I ever did, but if you lose yourself in your anger, then you can never become that person that you want to be."

Harry's eyes followed the Headmaster as he drifted towards Fawkes, his phoenix familiar.

"Ask yourself what you truly fight for, why do you lose yourself in studies and vigorous training, why do you wish to be the best, is it for yourself? If you lose all the people important to you, then what good is honor and pride?"

Dumbledore raised his hand towards the phoenix, while his other hand traced a locket around his neck, the same kind of locket that would house a clock along with an important photograph in the muggle world.

"What good is strength, when you have no one left to protect. Your father knew this, and your mother gave her life for this. Remember Harry, when a person has something important they want to protect... that's when they can become truly strong."

Dumbledore fell silent, leaving Harry to contemplate for a couple of minutes.

"Now," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence. "Since you were so impatient to leave us earlier, I have to relay the information for the first task. Care for a lemon drop?"

Harry groaned.

* * *

Upon arriving at his dormitory, he went straight to bed, however despite his exhaustion at the day's events, he was still unable to sleep. Thoughts still lingered on what had happened just a few hours earlier. Anger rose on him again, less potently than it had been before, but enough to keep him from falling into a peaceful slumber.

He sat on his bed, remembering the breathing exercises taught to him by Master Zheng

_'Breathing'_

_'Holding'_

_'Exhaling'_

_'Breathing'_

_'Holding'_

_'Exhaling'_

Eventually Harry gave up.

Extreme circumstances called for extreme measures.

Harry went towards his trunk, and after opening the lock, he rummaged through a few of his belongings, reaching for the bottom, he picked at a hidden compartment that hid some important things that were not technically legal to bring to Hogwarts:

A steel dagger.

A few of his favorite muggle comic books.

And…

Several muggle porno mags that would be considered extreme by your everyday normal person.

Casting a few privacy charms on his bed, he sat back down on his bed, with shaking hands he opened the magazine and started going from page to page. It wasn't just pictures, after all like most magazines it contained some articles about how to treat women and how to control them. The articles were appropriate considering the positions the women shown in the pictures.

Every image showed depravity most people would not consider… normal. Women bound in different, stringent positions. Restraints changing from ropes, to steel, to duct tape of different colors, and even restraints made out of non-conventional material, like rubber or leather.

There was one were a woman was bent into an arching position, her back to a horizontal wooden post, forcing her full chest forward, milky skin of her bosom already painted a red hue from a flogging she had endured.

He came across another one of a woman blindfolded and gagged with duct tape, bent over a man's knee, generous ass presented towards him, ready to be spanked like she was a naughty child in need of discipline.

That one got him hard.

However, there was one he stopped to look at, it was not as provocative as the other ones, for one thing the woman portrayed had her privates covered. She was wearing an outfit that seemed to have been completely made out of leather, the fetishwear covered her breast slightly, and also protected her womanhood, the rest was laid bare.

It was the position that caught Harry's attention.

She was kneeling down, a collar covered her neck, the leash attached to it fell down between her leather covered breasts and unto her left leg. Her mouth forced open by a rubber sphere, crimson red in color, which surrounded her lips like a red egg forced into her mouth and held by diabolical straps fastened behind her head.

If she wanted to get out of her situation she would have a hard time, her arms were hidden behind her back, probably fastened with a restraint of some kind, preventing the use of them and leaving her at the mercy of whatever person wanted to have his way with her.

The eyes were what really sold it.

Twin honey orbs stared widely at the camera, pleading. They seemed to look directly into Harry's own eyes and convey a myriad of emotions.

Horror.

Anxiety.

Uncertainty.

Excitement.

Submission.

Harry looked on at the picture, while at the same time lowering his sleeping pants in order to allow his manhood to break free of its cotton restraints. Grabbing hold of his stick, he started caressing the tip, slowly but surely taking his anger and stress away.

As he started to pump it up and down, he continued to look obsessively at the face of the helpless female, until finally he had enough of a mental picture to set it down and finish himself off for the night.

That was until his own mind started to change the nature of the picture.

Honey eyes were replaced by twin sapphires of impossible blueness, only the ones with that particular color were more filled with defiance rather than the ones he saw with the woman in the magazine.

Brown hair gave way to hair almost silver, splayed all around her perfect face. So long that with her kneeling it reached her legs, just like the leash attached to her neck

Tanned skin was taken over by pale milky skin, so pure it looked to be made of porcelain, however it would more than likely be soft and supple to the touch, when Harry imagined himself taking her by the leash and pulling her towards his arms.

The collar itself only had one change, a symbol of a dragon to mark her owner.

Harry kept this corrupted mental image in his mind until he finally let out all his anger, frustrations, and fears along with his seed.

In the end, the dark-haired wizard could only mutter a quick cleaning charm before dozing off to the best good night's rest he had had in months.

**AN: Well… that actually took a lot less than expected.**

**I honestly thought it would take a couple of weeks just to write this chapter, especially considering this is probably the first time I have ever written something this long in my life.**

**As you can see this is not the same Harry as you have in canon, him being raised by Sirius Black let him grow into a confident young man with ambition that matches Julius Caesar. And now he has the beautiful Fleur Delacour in his sights.**

**Anyways I am looking forward to your reviews, I am especially interested in what the Brits and French think.**

**See I have this thing, where I live in the most Americanized city in all of Mexico, I was taught in a private elementary school that taught everything in English so much that I think I might have a more advanced vocabulary in English rather than Spanish. However, the director of the school was also an old chap from Birmingham, and more than a couple of teachers were Brits.**

**So, I have this weird bastardized vocabulary between American and British slang.**

**Also, those British teachers all had less than favorable things to say about the French, just putting it out there.**

**Speaking of Britain, song and album recommendation is "Another Perfect Day" by Motörhead, RIP Lemmy.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage**


	3. Destined for Glory

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Chapter two. Sirius ponders his life with his Godson. Harry starts to forge new alliances, and deals with his growing obsession for the French beauty. This chapter will get a little dark at one point, a little bit of gore will be involved.**

**REVISED ON 26/03/2018**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter II: Destined for Glory**

If there is something that Sirius had become unfortunately accustomed to since that fateful day that he accompanied his Harry to Platform 9 ¾ for his first year at Hogwarts, is seeing unscheduled owls bearing letters reporting unfortunate events that his aforementioned godson had been caught into.

The first time it had happened, had been the day after Halloween of Harry's first year, when he the letter arrived and told him that his godson had incapacitated a troll with the help of his friends. The one that came after was a positive one, he had become the youngest seeker in centuries.

He went all the way to Hogwarts to attend Harry's debut, cheering for him when he caught the golden snitch. ' _You would have been so proud, James',_  Sirius remembered thinking. He went down after the match was over to congratulate him personally, Sirius remembered how ecstatic he was. It was like being sent back to his youth when James had consistently won the Quidditch Cup when he was captain of the Gryffindor team.

Then, the next letter came to inform him Harry had killed a Death Eater.

Sirius immediately grabbed his wand apparated to Hogsmeade, demanding entrance to Hogwarts in order to see his godson.

When he was finally let inside under the permission of professor Dumbledore, he was rushed to the Hospital Wing. There lay the boy that had become his son in all but blood, his face sported cuts and bruises that no eleven-year-old boy should have to endure. He had been unconscious since they had recovered his passed-out body.

It took him three days until he finally woke up.

"What happened down there," Sirius remembered asking him.

"I tried to stop them… I needed to stop them from getting the Stone," murmured Harry while he was struggling to regain full consciousness. His dark-haired godson closed his eyes shortly after that.

"We found the body of professor Qurininus Quirrell along with the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore had told him shortly after. "He had a hole the size of a Quaffle in his chest."

"What have you been teaching him!" roared Sirius, trying to remember the offensive spells he had learned during his first year at Hogwarts. "How could he learn a spell that blew a grown man's chest open!?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't think he did it on purpose. Given the boy's state, all signs implicate a massive burst of accidental magic."

"Accidental magic doesn't do that much damage!" Sirius shouted to the headmaster. "Accidental magic leads to turning your hair color green, not killing someone!"

Dumbledore then took a deep breath. "Sirius," he said, choosing his next words carefully. "You know Harry is not…  _normal,_ even for a wizard."

"I know that, but something like this is unheard of!" argued Sirius.

"Not unheard of, but certainly uncommon," answered Dumbledore. "Harry has an immense amount of potential, one that rivals or surpasses mine, when he cannot control such power and finds himself in a dangerous situation, his power gets out of control in a violent way."

"I was the same way, I…," Dumbledore breathed heavily, making Sirius stare intently at the normally calm and composed headmaster. "I also harmed people when I couldn't control it, and Harry has even more potential then I had at his age," revealed Dumbledore.

Sirius remembered being shocked at the revelation, he had known Harry to be special, but not so much that even Dumbledore could be surpassed.

Sirius looked at Harry differently after that, treating him even more maturely than he already did, he even decided to give Harry the Potter signet ring.

The troubles certainly didn't end after that, the next year was even more challenging. The final letter came to tell him that Harry had slain a basilisk.

A basilisk…

Sirius stood up from his living room sofa, and slowly climbed the steps of their modest house in the large town of Reading.

After the events in that fateful night of Halloween, Sirius had decided to raise Harry in the muggle world, not wanting his godson to be hounded by the troubles of Wizarding Britain. As such he had bought a house in Berkshire county, a relatively peaceful place just a few miles away from London, yet it was also large enough that Sirius and his godson never had lacked for anything.

Arriving at the second floor he made his way to his foster son's bedroom.

When he had heard the news of the basilisk, he had almost suffered a heart attack. His godson at the tender age of twelve had gone against the most dangerous creature in the wizarding world armed with only a sword… and lived to tell the tale.

On one hand Sirius could not help to be proud of his godson's accomplishment's. He could almost imagine that if James and Lily had been alive and Sirius had only been the boy's godfather, he would have been all over Harry, regaling in his outstanding accomplishments while Lily would berate him and force him to enact more caution the next time.

However, that role had also been passed down to Sirius, along with Harry after the death of his parents at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Harry had grown up believing Sirius had been his real father. Sirius however had corrected him when he had been four years old, and told him the truth about his birth parents. His godson had cried for several days after that.

In order to try and calm him, Sirius had started to tell his godson the story of his family, the same stories that Harry's grandfather had told Sirius when he was staying in Potter manor after being banished by his mother from House Black.

Telling Harry about the stories of his family had worked, however it had also changed his nephew in order ways, after that, Harry became more serious and focused on his muggle studies a lot more. Still a boy of four, Harry made some pretty silly things.

He still laughed at the memory of when Harry had gone down to the local recruitment center at the age of five, later receiving a phone call from one very amused Major. He had picked up Harry and the Major told him about how his godson had entered the office, stood straight and yelled in his high-pitched voice: "Harry Potter, reporting for duty, sir!"

The Major had laughed and called Sirius in order to pick him up. When the Black lord arrive, the Major had was patting the boy on his head, while Harry pouted. "Wait until you're 18, young fella, then we'll be happy to have you in Her Majesty's Service," then sent him off to his godfather. "Spirited, this one, take good care of him."

Sirius entered Harry's bedroom and stared at the place. It was a startling mixture of what you could find in a normal 14-year old's room, as well as what you would find of an adult. The dichotomy was so  _Harry_  that it made Sirius smile at the sight.

A huge personal library was separated in two stands. On one stand was a collection of magic texts, some more advanced than what was taught in Hogwarts. Subjects from Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Runes, and other areas of magical nature. They were neatly arranged from subject, to difficulty. It was a testament of his godson's drive to learn and get more powerful.

The other side however, spoke about the Harry only a handful of people knew.

Muggle comic books lay neatly arranged, by publisher and alphabetical order. A fascination of many muggles, especially teenagers, Harry was also drawn in by the characters, their motivations, their struggles… and it didn't hurt that some artists could also draw sexy heroines in a way no healthy male could look away.

Below the comics also lay muggle works of literature: Lord of the Rings was featured prominently, one of Harry's favorites, and other fantasy works by Michael Moorcock and C.S. Lewis.

Literature was not all, however. Resting on a special stand, was Harry's constantly used Fender Stratocaster, next to it, a Marshall amplifier. Above the wall, several posters of famous guitarists and bands were displayed. One large poster showed a long-haired, tall blond man with a cream colored electric guitar, the poster read "Yngwie J. Malmsteen". Sirius did not know about him, but Harry had told him he was the best in the world.

Another showed an African American man. Even being raised in the wizarding way, Sirius knew that the man was the American guitar legend, Jimi Hendrix.

When Lily had become friends with the Marauders, she had brought the wizard raised friends a healthy dose of muggle culture, including things like music, books, and to their shock, a new medium unknown to the wizarding world: cinema.

Harry of course grew up knowing all these things, things that Sirius did not know about. And with his early years being on the leather bound 80's rather than Lily's love and peace 60's, his godson been known to have some extreme tastes. Whether it was music, movies or books… or as Sirius found out now that Harry was in puberty, sex. This was all something Sirius knew as part of raising Harry.

' _Raising Harry,'_ Sirius mused to himself. ' _Or did Harry raise me?'_

' _I guess we raised each other.'_

When Sirius had decided to take Harry, he did not know anything about how to raise a child. In the first week he considered taking him to Dumbledore to find someone more suitable for the task of raising an infant, however, he remembered what he had promised, so he resolved himself to raising Harry himself.

' _Because I swore to James that I would do it.'_

It was a daunting task, raising him in the muggle world. A world that he had only snippets of information thanks to Lily. Learning to use other modes of transportation that didn't include the Floo network or brooms took him over a year.

And phones! Muggles found way to communicate with one another over long distances that didn't necessitate the use of writing, and it was handier than Floo conversations. As a person raised to believe all muggles were useless and barbaric, it shocked Sirius to see how far they had truly come. In a few years, muggle technology could maybe be able to surpass magic. Seeing their military inventions, muggles could probably beat wizards if Voldemort got his long-desired war.

' _We truly have underestimated them,'_  Sirius thought to himself, staring at Harry's queen-sized bed.

Sitting down on Harry's bed, he looked at the raven-haired wizard's desk. In it was a word processing machine, but also several pictures. One of them was of Harry and Sirius holding a trophy, it was shot after Harry had won a martial arts tournament.

Another displayed Harry and Sirius again. Both of them were dressed in studded leather jackets. It was taken after Sirius decided to take Harry to 'Monsters of Rock' in Donnington. Sirius had felt that Harry needed something to take his mind off things after the challenging first year.

The one at the centerpiece - in Sirius' opinion - was the best, it was a magic picture, and featured Sirius, Remus, and James with Lily carrying a laughing one-year old Harry.

' _You would be so proud of him_ ,' Thought Sirius, looking at the photograph.

' _But… did he have to grow up so fast?'_  Sirius questioned himself.

The last year was a challenge for both Sirius and Harry, after Peter Pettigrew had escaped from Azkaban.

The Ministry had been in shock, in it's entire history there had not been a single instance of escape from the infamous Wizarding prison. However, somehow, Peter Pettigrew had done so.

When Sirius had heard the news, he was filled with anger, yet also with a sense of relief. Finally, after all this time, he would get the chance to take his revenge on the traitor that had sold out his best friend to Voldemort and his servants. The same man that had left his godson as an orphan. He had never told Harry about Peter's connection to his parents, or about the Marauders.

Harry, however found out about Peter. Pettigrew had left Azkaban with the intention of either killing or capturing Harry, but was outsmarted by a combination between Remus, Sirius and his godson. A plan that went awry with the untimely transformation of Remus, as well as the interference of the dementors.

The dementors.

There was something odd about their behavior. They seemed to target Harry more than they did target Peter. Sirius suspected that they did so under the orders of some of the former Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers within the Ministry.

So much so that, when Peter escaped, instead of tracking him down, the dementors instead attacked Sirius and Harry. His godson defended him with a fully corporeal Patronus.

' _You would have been so proud of your boy, James.'_

Sirius had complained to the Ministry of course, but they just gave him a simple apology and told him they would try to control the dementors better the next time around.

Of course, a large part of the Ministry was in control of Lucius Malfoy. There was a simple reason behind the dementors actions. With no male sons, once he died, the heirship of House Black would be in dispute. Draco Malfoy would technically be the next in line to inherit the ancient house if Harry did not meet certain conditions for the continued survival of the Blacks.

Sirius though, had already made it sure that his heir would be Harry. James' mother had been a Black after all. Sirius had posthumously re-legitimized her when he came to his power as Lord Black. He would be damned if Lucius Malfoy's spawn gets his hands on the legacy of House Black.

Harry had changed even more after the escape of the traitorous Marauder; his already low number of friendships had seemed to evaporate. Harry now concentrating himself full time to getting stronger, he stopped his social life entirely, leaving him a loner by the time of last summer.

' _He should be making friends, getting a girlfriend, and being the root cause of more gray hairs for Professor McGonagall, not preparing for a full-blown war. What would Lily and James say if they saw their son pushing himself to this level?'_ Sirius thought, thinking about his now deceased friends.

Now another letter had come.

His godson had now been chosen to participate in the dangerous tradition known as the Triwizard Tournament.

' _It's not fair to him, why is it always him? Merlin, please let him live a normal life for just a little. There has to be a way for him to be safe. James would kill me if anything would happen to his son, why does he still get in danger every time.'_

Sirius sighed. Then stood up with the intention of speaking with Dumbledore.

He had left his godson alone for the past three years in Hogwarts and nothing good had come out of it.

' _No more'_

Sirius was going to help his godson in this one. If he could not prevent the disasters from happening around Harry, then he would help his godson weather through them.

He was the young man's Godfather after all.

' _I swear to you James'_

* * *

When Harry woke up, he was once again fully conscious of the sore erection he was sporting underneath his sleeping pants, making them look like a comical version of a tentpole.

' _That dream again,'_ Thought Harry while he was beginning to shake of the usual morning drowsiness from his mind. Much to the emerald-eyed Potter's dismay, his sleep had been plagued by the same images that had been evolving since his name had been selected from the Goblet of Fire to participate as the fourth Triwizard Tournament.

' _Looking on the bright side_ ,' Harry thought as he was now sitting on the edge of his bed, preparing himself to start his day. ' _Those dreams are a lot better than the nightmares.'_

Yes, having a bound and gagged French Veela was definitely a lot better than nightmares where he ends up killing unknown people.

Both end up with him sweating, frustrated, and annoyed. The nightmares end with him clutching his scar in pain, while the dreams ended up with him clutching his manhood in pain. The latter pain however, was pretty manageable in the long run, if not endlessly vexing.

' _Why does this keep happening?'_ Harry questioned himself as he stood up with a visible scowl in his face, his mind trying to think unsexy thoughts in order to calm down his raging teenage hormones.

It had taken some time to accept it, after all, that the person he kept seeing in his wet dreams was the same woman that he had met three nights prior. The same woman who had belittled him in front of the other champions and had caused him to explode into anger during the Choosing.

It had taken him some time to admit it, that the woman that now haunted his sleep was  _that_  woman, but after last night's dream, it was pretty much undeniable in Harry's mind that – not content with being in his thoughts during his daily activities – Fleur Delacour was now following him while he slept.

It had been hard to admit after all, the fact that one person would have that much of an impact upon Harry's life. It had become increasingly frustrating to the Potter heir to find his mind drifting to the beautiful pale-haired French wizard.

' _How did this happen?'_ Harry mentally groaned as he was picking out his morning exercise clothes. ' _How is it that one woman can have this much presence in my life in such little time?'_

The thoughts kept plaguing as he made his way outside the Gryffindor Common Room and Hogwarts itself, to the Black Lake, in order to start his morning run.

Harry, unlike most pure or half-blood wizards, had grown like any normal muggle child… as normal as Harry Potter and Sirius Black can be at least. An essential part of life of everyday muggles that wizards often ignore is that of physical movement. Magic made it easier for a normal wizard to not get of his arse while muggles had to do more physical work in their day to day life.

Harry himself had also entered physically demanding activities in Berkshire, including muggle martial arts and football. Both of which demanded that the Potter heir be in top physical shape. Not to mention that he had plans to enter the Royal Marines when he graduated Hogwarts, a military branch that was known to ask that it's members be at the absolute peak of their body.

Arriving at the aforementioned lake, Harry was surprised to see another early riser in the scene. Even the professors are not usually awake at this early hour.

On the other hand, it should be no surprise that a fellow champion would also be interested in training their body. Thankfully for Harry, it was not the champion that had been particularly bothering him recently.

Looking at Viktor Krum now, Harry could see why he had been chosen as his school's representative in the tournament. The Bulgarian seeker looked like he had already run a lap across the lake, showing why he had become seeker for his country at such a young age.

Stopping his morning run in order to look at a new presence, the Durmstrang champion stared at Harry. For a few seconds, neither said a word, merely satisfying themselves with staring at each other with blank expressions on their faces.

Neither of them broke the silence, but Krum did break the mood. Keeping the same blank look on his expression, he gave a quick nod to the younger champion, and resumed his training. Harry respectfully gave a nod back and started his stretches.

Finishing his stretches, Harry then began his exercise with a light jog, all the while thinking about how his last interactions with his housemates had been since he had been revealed as the fourth Triwizard Champion.

If there had been a rift between his friends and himself since last year, then there was now a large chasm that even Harry wasn't sure it could be fixed. Ron – in his usual jealousy – had accused Harry of once again taking glory for himself.

' _Haven't the last three years taught you anything Ron?_ Harry questioned sadly.  _You should know that I never asked for any of this. If you want glory so badly, then I would gladly give the position to you.'_

Hermione though, had been the most disappointing. Harry thought that if there was someone in the whole school who would believe his version of events, it would be his Muggle-Born friend. Instead Hermione, while not accusing him of lying, was now openly avoiding conversation with him. All the while still speaking to Ron.

That's not even mentioning the rest of his housemates, who had grown openly hostile. Harry had stopped associating himself with the rest of the Gryffindors, and well… the rest of the students ever since his first year in lieu of studying and practicing. But he had still counted with the continuous support of his two best friends. With them gone, he knew exactly how badly it felt to be truly alone in his life.

Completing his run, he was once again met with the figure of Viktor Krum. This time the silence would indeed be broken.

"You are taking this seriously, that is good," said Krum. "Though, it does make it look like you  _do_  wish to compete in this tournament."

Still regaining his breath, Harry responded. "I didn't enter my name, but I don't have a choice anymore now, do I? If I don't compete in this thing now I will lose my magic."

"It was still very convenient, vasn't it? It vas quite a scene you made back there," stated Krum with a barely visible smirk on his face, still covered in sweat from his morning workout. "Do you really think someone vants you dead?"

"Ask your headmaster," retorted Harry, his previous heavy breathing slowing down. "I'm pretty sure Snape has wanted me gone since the day I arrived at Hogwarts."

Krum's smirk started to go in lieu of his ever present stony expression.

"Vat do you know about headmaster Karkaroff?" questioned Krum.

"I know he was a Death Eater, I know he also betrayed his allies, making him a dangerous man to be around. Your headmaster is both a dark wizard and also a traitor, even I can give a smidge of respect to the ones on Azkaban who kept their loyalty. Karkaroff is an arse that will do despicable things in one moment, and then betray you on another if it's convenient for him," explained Harry.

To Harry's surprise, Krum actually snorted in amusement, followed by a ghost of a smile that could barely be detected.

"Believe me, despite being student in his school, I vill not be defending Karkaroff, he may look like he is supportive of me, but he only cares about competition. He is man who cares about his ego, nothing else," said Krum, while Harry remained silent, a surprised look on his face.

"Then why are you even competing if not for your school?" questioned Harry, now fully composed but still sweating profusely from the exercise.

"I am doing this for myself, I share very little in common with the rest of classmates. Something vee may share in common from vat I hear," Krum answered, his face slowly losing his average composure, and breaking into a very slight smile. "I hear you are also seeker, youngest in centuries."

"I am," responded the young Potter heir. "So, you do this for yourself? Why?"

"To prove myself, to show vorld and myself I am not only great seeker, but also great vizard," responded Krum. "Why do you compete, Potter?"

"I don't want to compete, I told you, I did not put my name in the Goblet," protested Harry, his voice now sounding tired, probably from saying the same thing to so many people.

"Even so… you still seem to take this seriously, I see you come here and train, that is not attitude of person who has given up," declared the Bulgarian champion. "There must be reason why you train."

"Maybe it's to protect my name and my pride, as well as the name of my family," responded Harry, his middle finger once again tracing the dragon signet ring of House Potter. "Even if I didn't put my name in the Goblet, this still represents a challenge to prove myself in front of the world."

Krum's smirk got even more pronounced. "That was very impressive scene you made when ve vere chosen, I am used to anger being seeker, and still haven't seen someone explode the vay you did. Karkaroff looked like he vanted to kill something, and so did you!" exclaimed Krum. "Tell me, vat made you that angry? From vat I've heard about you, you vould have gotten used to it by now."

"I may have expected something, but it doesn't mean I have to like it," responded Harry, checking his watch and noting it was almost time for breakfast. "Wouldn't you be angry too?"

"There vas something more though, vasn't there?" questioned Krum, then the smirk turned into a small smile. "It was French champion, vasn't it? You started getting angry the moment she started talking to you, you were a victim of her allure then."

Harry tensed immediately, causing Krum to widen his smile slightly. The emerald eyed wizard hated the Durmstrang champion more than anyone at that moment. Finally composing himself, Harry turned to look Krum in the eyes.

"You are imagining it, I was in the World Cup and saw those Veela cheerleaders you had. Everyone went half stupid at the sight of them but I did not. My godfather told me that I'm immune to Veela allure. I did not start drooling when I saw her either," responded Harry, still nervous about being called out.

"Not her allure then, but she definitely had effect on you," insisted Krum, his smile still present.

"I need to get going now, it's almost time for class" said Harry, now getting nervous around the issue of the Beauxbatons champion. The frustrations he had been hoping to quell with the morning exercise now re-emerging with a vengeance.

Viktor Krum checked his own watch, and cursed lightly in Bulgarian. "I do not know if I believe you, but I look forward to competing against you in the days to come," with a respectful nod, he then started to lightly run towards the Durmstrang ship.

Harry returned the nod. ' _It really says something when the only respect I get nowadays has to come from a foreign student who also happens to be my rival.'_

The dark-haired wizard then began to also run back towards the castle, looking forward to a shower and a breakfast.

* * *

Harry's hope for a calm breakfast came to a halt with the appearance of the very same person that had been the subject of conversation between him and Krum in the morning.

Fleur Delacour sat on the edge of the Ravenclaw, Harry noticed that she made sure to be surrounded only by females, whether they were from Hogwarts or Beauxbatons. Even with this premeditated precaution, the nearest set of males were still unable to keep their eyes from drifting towards the stunning silver-haired witch, the ones furthest away were not fairing any better either.

Like it had been since the day she had arrived, it was an impossible task of self-control for the wizard population to keep their senses in the presence of the Beauxbatons champion.

From only a brief overview of the Great Hall, Harry could see that the majority of the population were drooling in a way that would make most bulldogs red with envy. Ron Weasley was probably displaying one of the most embarrassing ones, combining his lack of self-control with his eating tendencies; the Weasley male had his open mouth dropping half eaten food back into his plate.

Even the first years were not spared from the shame, even if they sported innocent, besotted smiles rather than lustful stares.

Harry, now growing increasingly appalled, even noticed some of the students worming their hands under their robes to service clearly excited manhoods.

Even some of the women were also affected by the French veela, if Susan Bones' stares were any indication.

' _I can see that she's attractive. Okay, massive understatement, she's absolutely beautiful. But can't you all show a little bit of self-restraint? Merlin, this is absolutely embarrassing me, and I'm not even the one drooling.'_

At the same time, the looks that they were giving her made Harry oddly… uncomfortable.

' _None of you are worthy, so stop looking at her.'_

Harry then recoiled back. Where had that come from?

The Veela in question however, was apparently ignoring the attention she was getting from the rest of the Hall. Harry guessed she must be pretty much used to being stared at like the dream come true of the average male psyche.

Fleur Delacour was instead concentrated on her breakfast. Harry once again observed that she had filled her plate with traditional French cuisine. He had noted her apparent dislike for British food ever since the moment she had asked him for a bowl of  _bouillabaisse_  the day she had arrived.

She had a small, half eaten  _croissant_ in her plate, next to it was another one, still untouched. A steaming cup of coffee accompanied the French pastries. Upon taking a small sip of the beverage, her face broke monotone in favor of a familiar look of contempt, the British roast apparently offending her refined taste buds. She set the cup down, staring at it like a rat had died on it.

The uncomfortable side that Harry had been experiencing these last days told him that a smile would suit her gorgeous face better than the scowl. That or a nice, round ballgag

Harry tore his gaze away trying to forget the foolish thoughts and headed for the Gryffindor table in order to serve himself something to eat. Finding a place, he noticed some of his housemates shuffling away from him.

' _So much for House solidarity_ ,' thought Harry as he surveyed the several dishes arrayed around the table.

Settling himself for some eggs and toast, as well as a  _croissant_ he had seen in the plates of some of the Beauxbatons students eating… and the French champion, Harry began eating his breakfast. At the same time checking his schedule for the day. All the while trying to place the French witch behind him in favor of the upcoming classes and the first intrusion that the Tournament would make on this year.

After the debrief in Dumbledore's study, Harry knew he needed to get ready not only for the tasks themselves, but for the upcoming issue of the Wand Weighing ceremony. The headmaster had mentioned that Ollivander himself would be attending in order to inspect the champions' wands to ensure that they were in good condition for the rigors of the Tournament.

' _Double Herbology,'_  thought Harry as he looked at his first class. ' _I'm not interested much in this subject, so I didn't read up on it during the summer. Next to History of Magic it's the one I have the worst grades on, I need to find a way to get up to speed.'_

Harry looked towards the table, most of his housemates were still ignoring him, however seated away from the rest of the table was also the lonely figure of Neville Longbottom. His finished plate was now ignored in favor of a massive book of Herbology, one which Harry noticed was advanced for their year.

Smiling Harry picked up his plate and started to walk towards the Longbottom heir. Sirius had once told him that the Longbottom and Potter houses had been stout allies since the founding of Hogwarts. With most of the school – including his housemates – abandoning him, maybe it was time to renew that relationship.

"Hey Neville, how are you doing," Harry declared with a smile on his face, startling Neville, who was still lost on his book.

"H-hey Harry, what is it," replied the nervous boy. Harry knew Neville had potential, but his self-doubt was his Achilles heel.

"Mind if I sit here," said Harry while putting his plate down beside his fellow Gryffindor.

"O-okay," replied Neville, while looking around the table, clearly not wanting to take another punch at his near non-existing popularity by associating himself with the house pariah, but too kind to tell Harry otherwise.

"Fascinating subject, Herbology," said Harry, looking up to see a more confident Neville smiling slightly, happy at being able to talk about his favorite subject, "I want to learn more about it, what say you help a bit and I help you with Potions."

Harry internally triumphed at seeing the Longbottom's eyes lighten up.

* * *

Harry looked pleased as he took his Herbology class. With Neville there to guide him everything was made much easier for him. In fact, Herbology was altogether not that different from Potions. Both required intense observation, following instructions, as well as intrinsic knowledge of the ingredients used.

' _So why is he so bad at it?'_ Harry questioned himself. ' _Neville's the best there is at Herbology in our entire year, maybe the whole school, and yet he is completely useless at Potions.'_

Harry looked at his companion, who was following Professor Sprout's indications to the detail, while Harry was copying notes on the procedure.

"You see Harry, unlike most plant's, this particular species of magical nightshade can only be watered by of all things, acid, trying to use a base liquid to feed it will cause it to shrivel up and release an unpleasant smell that will stay on you for a month," babbled Neville, clearly excited while slowly nurturing the aforementioned nightshade.

Harry had never really seen this Neville before, he always knew the Longbottom heir to be a bumbling ball of insecurity. Now that he was showing aptitude for a subject he surpassed all other in, his fellow Gryffindor seemed to be beaming with confidence.

"Fascinating, Neville," said Harry, a bit dryly but truly impressed by Neville's seemingly savant ability in the knowledge of his favorite subject.

"Harry," said Neville, with a little more confidence then he had said so during the breakfast at the Great Hall. Said raven haired wizard looked back at him.

"What is it Neville," answered Harry, his attention still on his piece of parchment, copying the instructions that Neville seemed to give at a lightning speed.

"I um… happened to overhear something that the Slytherin students said," Neville explained uncertainly, his previous nervousness returning.

Harry looked over from his notes, now understanding Neville was talking about something other than Herbology.

"What did you hear?" Harry questioned softly.

Neville shuffled on his feet uncertainly, then finally relented started telling Harry what he had heard a couple of Slytherin fourth years saying.

"They're saying something about Malfoy, and they also said that you were involved, as well as the Triwizard Tournament. I don't know exactly what they were talking about, I j-just thought that you should be careful around the Slytherins," responded Neville.

' _So, Malfoy seems to know something about me and the Triwizard Tournament, maybe this can all lead back to daddy Malfoy and the start of this plot,'_ Harry mused.

' _Maybe Malfoy was the one to enter my name into the Goblet after all? I better stay on this,'_ a train full of conspiracies raced through Harry's mind, so much that he failed to notice Neville trying to get his attention back.

"-rry, Harry?!" Neville hushed loudly, making Harry snap out of his thoughts. Looking back at his fellow Gryffindor, he noticed that the class was now over and the students were filing out of the greenhouse in order to go back to the Great Hall for lunchtime.

"Sorry, I was distracted, thank you for telling me this," responded Harry.

"No need, thank you for listening to me Harry, everyone just ridicules me when I talk about Herbology W-will you really help me with the other subjects?" questioned Neville.

Harry smirked, "Don't worry Neville, I'll be there to help you. Now I really need to get going. See you in class!"

With that said, Harry sped off outside the Herbology greenhouse, but instead of heading towards the Great Hall, like all the other students, he took a quick detour towards the Gryffindor common room. He needed to find out what exactly Malfoy was up to and for that, one particular item of his father's that would come in handy.

Arriving at the foot of his bed, Harry waved his wand in order to open his locked chest. Inside he rummaged through his neatly packed belongings, finally locating the item that would be used to find out about the plans hatched by Malfoy.

His father's invisibility cloak.

Sirius had given it to him when he first accompanied him to take the Hogwarts Express in his first year at Hogwarts, and it had been a useful item to have in his adventures.

It was also a piece of his father that he could hold, and one of the most valuable belongings of House Potter. Whenever he placed it over himself, it was like his father and ancestors would be protecting him from beyond the grave.

Placing it in his bag, he then made his way back to the Great Hall, where the students were already getting eager for the food to appear on their tables.

The female students that is, the males were hungry for something else entirely.

Harry followed their stupefied gazes and was not surprised to see that they led towards the seated figure of the French veela. Once again, her perfect face had an indifferent expression. It couldn't be more obvious if she had a neon sign on her exclaiming 'I'm not interested'.

_Okay, this is getting ridiculous now. Can it stop? Is this going to be every meal from now on until the end of the year? She's not that pretty guys!_

Harry's eyes drifted slightly towards the witch in question.

 _Ok I'll admit, she is that pretty, she's a perfect ten. Hell, she breaks the meter, she's an eleven. But still, she's not going to pay attention, so just stop and act your age! I thought things like this only happened on muggle cartoons!_ Harry ranted in his mind.

Still… Harry was aware of his own internal hypocrisy. He had been fantasizing about her more than he was comfortable with, much like his classmates, and Harry doubted even his classmates' imaginations were as… odd as the ones the green-eyed wizard dreamed about.

 _Maybe I'm not really immune after all?_ Harry pondered, taking one last, discreet glance at the French champion.  _At least I can control myself, that's more than you can say for the rest of this lot._

Sighing, he made his way towards his table, once again sitting besides Neville. The boy in question was one of the only males in Hogwarts who could withstand the presence of the Fleur Delacour, and had foregone staring in lieu of practicing his wand waving.

"Hey mate, sorry, had to go back to the common room quickly to get something," said Harry, once again startling Neville.

"T-that's alright Harry," Neville replied softly, then looked around him to see the vision that Harry had been presented with when he arrived, clearly confused. "Is there something going on why? Why is everyone… oh," said Neville, realization dawning in his eyes as he looked at the figure of Fleur Delacour.

"I know she's pretty, but isn't this a… little too much?" Neville said in a low voice.

Harry snorted. "Some people are just weak."

"I'm weak too, so why am I not as fascinated," stated Neville sadly, his eyes once again drifting towards his wand. Harry intervened quickly.

"You're not weak, you just need some assistance, I will help you in class to understand better," stated Harry, bringing a small smile to Neville's face.

Aside from the presence of Fleur Delacour, lunch passed like any other day in Hogwarts. Harry made sure to give himself a full and healthy meal, while eagerly waiting for one particular Slytherin student to slip away from the Great Hall.

When Draco Malfoy finally stood up and left with his ever-present goons: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Harry said his quick goodbye to Neville and made sure to follow the Slytherin trio. Quickly entering an empty broom closet, he pulled the invisibility cloak, and placed it on himself. Exiting the closet, he prowled after them.

Even seeing them from behind, Harry knew Malfoy was sporting the biggest shit-eating grin in his face just from the way he was walking. It didn't take him long to overhear the blond ponce's conversation.

"Potter will be furious when he sees them!" Malfoy nearly snarled giddily in a disturbing manner. "It's about time the rest of the school saw him and his traitorous family for what they truly are."

The two goons beside him grunted. Harry was almost sure he hadn't ever heard any words coming from the two idiotic thugs.

' _Those two are a true testament to your ideology Malfoy: inbred, racist, fat, and stupid,'_ Harry thought savagely. The comments about his family making him almost want to get his wand and stun all three of them.

' _My family were conquering countries while yours were sucking some French lord's prick for the barest of recognition!'_ Harry ranted in his mind.

The three Slytherins finally arrived at an abandoned classroom, and tapped the door. Harry heard a lock come loose and the path to the room was opened. The Potter heir quickly entered before it could be closed and locked again.

Immediately he saw that there were two other Slytherins inside. The first one Harry noticed was pug-faced Pansy Parkinson, who threw herself at the Malfoy heir with a disturbing squee, and proceeded to suck his face.

The other one he didn't notice at first, but even with his back turned against Harry, the obese form of Millicent Bulstrode was quickly identifiable.

"Are they ready yet," drawled Malfoy, regaining himself after the sickening display Harry had witnessed earlier. Bulstrode turned back, apparently still working on the objects arrayed around an old table.

"Almost, they should be ready by tonight, tomorrow we can hand them out," came the booming reply of Bulstrode.

"Great then, let's see one that's completed," gasped Malfoy, excitement clear in his voice.

Harry watched as Bulstrode handed to Malfoy what looked like a badge one would put on their clothes to support a political campaign. In it, in bright red letters were the words:

**Support CEDRIC DIGGORY**

**The REAL Hogwarts Champion!**

Harry was disappointed to say the least. When he had followed Malfoy, he thought the plot to put his name on the Goblet would be revealed. He had assumed the Malfoy heir had been following the orders of his father in a conspiracy to get him killed in the Tournament.

Now he was finding out it was just another one of Malfoy's petty tricks. Harry frankly didn't care about the badge, Cedric was clearly the real Hogwarts Champion, chosen fairly by the Goblet to participate as the representative of the British school.

Harry didn't care that is… until Malfoy pressed the badge on his hands, and the words and image changed to read:

**POTTER STINKS!**

The words were the color of puke green, and the proud dragon symbol of the Potters was made to look like a deformed salamander, a clear insult to Harry's family.

Said raven-haired wizard almost erupted in anger at the sight. Insulting him was one thing, insulting the family of his forefathers was another.

Still, Harry fought his anger, and calmed down even with the howling, sycophantic laughter that surrounded the room, courtesy of the five Slytherins.

Harry left after that, taking quick note of the fact that the badges were still neatly arranged in the table for the night. Harry looked brightly ahead.

His next class was Ancient Runes after all, one of his favorites.

There would be some experimenting of course.

And… with the invisibility cloak he could always come back to this room during the night. He would have to.

After all, the snakes, just like all the rest, must be humbled before the awakened dragon

* * *

"Professor Babbling, I need some help with these particular question," drawled Harry, calling for the attention of the Ancient Runes professor.

"Yes Mr. Potter, how may I help you?" answered Professor Babbling, sitting in her office after class.

"I have noticed the use of the  _Push_  runes, and the fact that they can be used at a varying degree of severity, going from a light shove, to a violent throw. The question Professor Babbling, is one of safety. What would happen if I put two opposing  _Push_ runes in a single cluster?" asked Harry.

"That would be extremely dangerous Mr. Potter, two runes inscribed that way would cause both of them to come into conflict with each other and cause an explosion," stated the Professor.

Harry gasped, his acting talents enough to convince Babbling.

"I thank you for telling me this Professor, I will take this warning to heart," stated Harry, before ominously adding. "I will  _never_  forget it."

* * *

The next morning saw Harry walking towards the Great Hall, upon entering it he witnessed a spectacle he didn't think he would see for the rest of the year.

For once, Fleur Delacour was not the center of attention.

The badges that Harry had seen the day before had made their grand debut. The charmed objects attached to the students' changing from their support of Cedric to the mocking of Harry. In Harry's mind, they were mocking his family name as well.

Harry saw Cedric approach him, a slightly angry and embarrassed look on his face.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I tried to tell them to not wear them, I mean it, I-," Cedric stopped talking when he felt Harry's reassuring hand in his shoulder.

Harry truly appreciated Cedric in that moment, he smiled sincerely to his fellow champion and seeker and answered with a calm voice. "I know you would Cedric, I believe you, it's not your fault. You are a great and loyal friend."

Harry truly respected Cedric, he was the embodiment of the values of his House: fairness, hard-work, and loyalty. The dark-haired wizard then shook him lightly to assure his fellow champion and continued towards his place in the Gryffindor table, noticing with dismay that a few of his housemates had taken to sporting the badges.

Sitting down, Harry kept a facade of calm demeanor, his face a stone-cold expression that would make the Antarctic look like a tropical paradise, yet inside the volcano was seconds away from erupting. The mocking looks the students sent their way make the boiling point come closer with each passing second.

The most obnoxious one was Draco Malfoy, who was decked with six of the badges in his robes, almost all of his fellow Slytherins also sported a badge. The only exceptions were Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.

Looking towards the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegations, he was relieved to see that none of them had a single badge in their clothes. Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum, looked particularly annoyed at the childish display the Hogwarts students were showcasing.

Harry sighed in relief, none of the foreigners had the badges, that was a good thing.

He did  _not_  wish to spark an international incident in case one of them got injured.

Speaking of the French witch, now that few people were looking in her direction, Harry felt less ashamed about gazing at her from his position.

An eleven out of ten she was not, there was no metric to measure this goddess made flesh. Now that she was not the object of stares in the room, Harry saw that she was more relaxed in her demeanor. Gone was the face of arrogance that she had sported ever since she saw her, now her face was brighter, her eyes sparkling like sapphires as she talked with two of her friends in French.

Harry noticed that rather than a scowl, her lips now formed a beautiful smile that made the Potter heir tingle inside with want. The opened mouth showed teeth like pearls, her voice babbling away in French was soft and exquisite, a far cry from the shrill nagging that she talked to him with during the night of the choosing.

Just looking at her now seemed to calm Harry, rather than anger him in the way she had before. If this was the true Fleur Delacour, then maybe being under her allure was not such a bad thing. Now he fully understood why everyone was obsessed with her.

' _She's an angel,'_  Harry thought decidedly, there was truly no other way to describe such a being.

Unfortunately for the rest of the school, Harry was indeed immune to her allure, as he demonstrated when he closed his eyes. The calm that had taken over him disappearing, slowly being replaced by the previous fury that had been burgeoning ever since he had followed Malfoy yesterday.

"You have the virtues of all four Houses,"The Sorting Hat had once told him when he first entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts in his first year.

"It seems at the end I will put you in Gryffindor, you will be a lion like _Godric!"_

Harry's hands touched underneath the table as he remembered the words the Hat had told him them. His fingers slowly drifting towards the ring that had once belonged to his father, and his grandfather all the way to the old Poteria family of Rome.

 _But I am not a lion, nor a badger, or a raven, not even a snake!_  Harry thought, his eyes scrunching as he continued to hear the mocking laughs.

His fingers were now touching the symbol of his house, the powerful sigil of the winged reptile that reigned over all magical creatures and animals. His eyes now snapped open, his calm façade now gone, it showed nothing but pure fury.

' _Godric Gryffindor'_

Harry looked towards his housemates, now cowering in front of peer pressure as more of them took the badges being offered by the other students.

' _Helga Hufflepuff'_

The yellow colored robed students were only behind Slytherin in the mocking. Betraying the trust of their housemate and their fellow Hogwarts student.

' _Rowena Ravenclaw'_

Harry's gaze turned to the children of the house of knowledge, taking part in the asinine buffoonery as the rest of the school

' _Salazar Slytherin'_

The wizards and witches who bore green and silver now showed the dull fruit that was the product of their pettiness and low ambition.

' _I am a dragon.'_

Harry finally took his fingers away from the ring, and waved them in a small display of wandless magic.

' _The Founders built a castle, and turned it into a school?'_

' _The Potters built a nation, and turned it into an empire!'_

The small bit of magic that Harry sent started out slowly but surely taking effect. The badge of a Gryffindor sixth year started to hum softly.

' _The Founders helped build a world that now cowers in the face of muggle progress?'_

' _The Potters helped build two civilizations that would bring the world to heel!'_

Slowly but surely the students stopped their perverse revelry, and took note of the rapidly vibrating badges in their robes.

' _The Founders' heirs have all but gone? Only a putrid dark wizard left as their living legacy?'_

' _The Potters are still here, and will always remain!'_

' _When the rubble is settled, when your rotting world lies in cinders, the dragon will still fly!'_

Harry's attention turned to the students, eventually settling on the confused figure of Draco Malfoy

' _What do you say now about my family, you waste of flesh and air!?'_  Harry thought viciously, as his eyes feasted on the spectacle he spent all night organizing until it was perfected.

A loud bang shook the Great Hall, the sixth year Gryffindor was sent flying a foot behind him, smoke coming from the robe where the badge had previously been. He was bleeding from his chest, but still alive and groaning into unconsciousness.

Similar things started to happen to the students that wore the badges, the vibrations started to get out of control, before a controlled but powerful explosion sent them flying.

Harry looked around him, as the students that symbolized the future of the wizarding world were being thrown around like a macabre marionette show.

' _Is this your legacy, Founders?'_ Harry thought derisively, now only he was doing the mocking, standing from his seat to revel in the spectacle of his creation.

' _But then again, I guess your kind only ever thought small. Perhaps your shallow and insignificant world did consider you geniuses.'_

…

' _But you could never reach the level of the Potters.'_

Harry surveyed the entire Great Hall, most of the students that wore badges were now on the floor, their unconscious faces still groaning in shock and pain. Some of them would be considered geniuses, just like the Founders were considered geniuses.

' _But no matter how much of a genius someone is, their accomplishments are mediocre and insignificant when compared to the name 'Potter'!'_

Harry's anger was still spiking, the state of those who were mocking him was still not enough to quench his ire.

That is, until a sight came upon him.

The sight of Fleur Delacour standing slightly hunched, panic in her face, her hands covering her ears. The kind face that had calmed him so now gone, replaced by one of peril and anguish.

On her side, standing on a table, was Draco Malfoy, trying desperately to rip the badges from his robe. Badges that were now millimeters away from the French angel's face.

His anger now gone, Harry sprinted as fast as he could, the badges in Malfoy's robes now vibrating violently, ready to go off at any moment's notice.

In a moment of sheer adrenaline, Harry knocked the Malfoy heir with his shoulder, while at the same time taking the silver-haired goddess into her arms. Harry turned her around, so that his back was facing the panicked figure of Draco Malfoy.

Hugging the beautiful Veela closely, Harry closed his eyes and waited for the bangs that would be coming soon.

He noticed so much more of the heavenly being in his arms with his eyes closed. Her waist length hair felt like the softest silk, so delicate he thought they would break at his tight hold.

Her skin was almost impossibly soft, no imperfections at all scarred the beauty that he could touch. It was like whatever gods there may exist had shielded her from all harm, protecting her from cruelty and harshness of the world.

And her scent!

Sweet vanilla and fruity aromas entered his nostrils, it seemed as though she was untainted by the rough smells that could permeate the Great Hall. The smell was not overpowering or sickeningly sweet, it was just… right. He was addicted in that very moment, Harry doubted he would ever smell anything as breathtaking.

Harry stood there, still holding her in his arms as the last bangs sounded off in the room. He noticed that in the commotion, Fleur was also holding his robes, looking for a lifeline in the middle of the pandemonium. The bangs gave way to groans and gasps of pain.

When he finally opened his eyes, Harry saw the chaos he had spawned.

The Slytherin table was cracked right in the middle, the figure of Theodore Nott in the middle of it. The Ravenclaw table was a mess, platters thrown around all over the place, most of them broken- The Gryffindor table was the least affected of them all, due to the low number of people that actively wore the badges. Hufflepuff was also a disaster, food thrown away haphazardly.

Even the teachers were now on the floor, trying to take cover from what they probably believed was a Death Eater attack.

Some students were not unconscious, and were crawling out from the tables. Harry saw most of the Gryffindor's, including Hermione, Ron and Neville crawl out, as well as all the Gryffindor Quidditch team. From the Hufflepuff table, Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones emerged, accompanied by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, Cedric Diggory was also was unaffected. From Ravenclaw he saw Lisa Turpin, Su Li, Terry Boot, Cho Chang, and Padma Patil.

From Slytherin, only Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, and Blaise Zabini were intact.

' _Potential allies, now that the scum has been sorted out_.'

The only person standing in the entire Great Hall, was Harry Potter-Black, holding Fleur Delacour in his toned arms. Looking at the mess, Harry's fury once again started to rise.

' _Lions, badgers, ravens, and snakes, you are all exactly where you belong.'_

' _In the end you all kneel before the dragon!'_

His temper once again returning, it was interrupted by a small gasp between his arms. The delicate sound making him look.

Sapphires met emeralds

The rage was gone in an instant, quelled the moment his eyes came into contact with the Fleur's. Dumbledore's best calming charm wouldn't even come close compared to the effect the silver-haired beauty had.

Harry held his breath, unable to say a word, the world didn't matter in that moment, only the angel he had managed to somehow catch in his arms.

Harry didn't know how much time passed until the melodious voice reached his ears again.

"C-could you let  _moi_  go, please?" came the soft voice. He had heard the voice before, of course, but it had been haughty and mean-spirited. This one was something celestial, he just wanted to keep listening to it.

' _Let you go? Why?'_

' _You are mine.'_

Letting go was the hardest thing Harry had to do in his entire life. Even accepting the death of his parents and leaving the Mirror of Erised was easier. His parents were gone, there was nothing that could change that, but this angel was right in front of him, on the flesh.

Still, reluctantly, he let go. His arms fell to his sides slowly, and her face was slowly removed from her previous position on the side of his neck.

"Zank you," she gasped, and then stepped away. Her back turned to him.

Fleur left him, now looking for her headmistress, her shapely figure gliding away towards the main table. With every step she took away from him, Harry felt the familiar emptiness return, this time with a vengeance.

Taking one last, long look at Fleur, he made his way back towards the Common Room.

* * *

Classes had been suspended that day. Everyone was ordered back to their common rooms while the teachers desperately tried to figure out what happened.

No evidence was left however, Harry made sure of that while he put the explosive runes in the badges the previous night. The only person it could be traced back to was Malfoy, who had originally passed the badges around to the rest of the students.

In the end it was chalked up to a malfunction in the charms. Malfoy Sr. had to pay for the treatment of the rest of the students.

It also cost Slytherin over three hundred house points, making it impossible for them to win the cup this year. Only Malfoy Sr. managed to avoid his son getting expelled

Thankfully, none the victims were severely harmed. Most just had light scarring on their chests with first degree burns.

Unless you were Adrian Pucey and tried to inspect the vibrating badge like an imbecile, holding it closely against your eye. The sixth year Slytherin would now only have his left eye, the right side of his face almost scarred completely.

Harry tried to feel bad about the son of a Death Eater, but he had more important things to think about.

Like his almost manic obsession with a certain Veela.

Still awake in the middle of the night, the previous insomnia remedies could no longer work. Harry knew that mere fantasy could no longer satisfy him the way it had the previous nights. His mind now called for the real thing. The newly awakened dragon could not be pleased only with the fantasies of domination he had used previously.

Holding the Veela tightly on his arms had been a revelation, he had never been so vexed by his emotions as he was now. His rational thoughts knew it couldn't happen, it was impossible, and yet every fiber in his being now called out for her.

To Harry, it was frustrating, that one person had that much hold on his psyche. Resigned himself to a sleepless night, he went back to the Common Room hall, to see if he could find an interesting text to keep his mind away from silver hair and sapphire blue eyes.

He stayed awake for quite some time, pouring over texts that he had already read before in the vain attempt to get his eyes tired enough that he could end the night with a modicum of sleep. He had been known the be pretty cranky when he was too tired to function correctly.

It was not until he returned back to his room that he got the idea to once again consult the magazines that only seemed to serve as fuel for the fire that were his perverted desires.

This time, however, he decided to do something that he had never done. He actually started to read the articles that accompanied the extreme pictures. They told of the experiences of several dominants and their submissive partners, as well as the customs and rituals that they went through in order to have a functioning relationship inside and outside of the bedroom.

There was even one part that dealt with some sort of "contracts". While they were not legally binding, they were almost agreements between the master and slave in order to fulfill both of their desires. They included everything that they could agree upon, from common interests, limits, and even a "safe word" that could be used by the submissive to tell when they really wanted to stop.

Harry did not have the time to read all of it, and due to his tiredness, he doubted that he would remember most of it by tomorrow. But it was enough to keep him interested as overwhelming exhaustion slowly creeped his way.

Securing the magazines back into his trunk, he crawled back into his bed and finally managed to get some sleep.

His dreams that night were unfortunately not the ones that centered around Fleur Delacour.

**AN: Well there you go, chapter 2. It definitely took more this time around, I had to rewrite some stuff because the nature of the story has been changing. While I'm definitely keeping the BDSM angle of the story. It is now fully a romance.**

**Harry is definitely darker in this fic. Not evil, but definitely not the paragon of light he was in canon.**

**I know I said that this chapter would feature the contract, but it just kept expanding and I felt I was rushing the situation to fast without elaborating Harry's state of mind and obsession with Fleur.**

**Song recommendation is "Destined for Glory" by Swedish power metal band Hammerfall from their 2000 album release "Renegade". Hammerfall are in the sacred pantheon of my most recommended bands if you want to listen to kickass heavy metal.**

**Until next time**

**The Metal Sage**

**REVISED ON 26/03/2018**


	4. Angel Witch

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter III: Angel Witch**

"Please, my Lord!" a male voice screamed shrilly, though the only thing Harry could see was a blurred shadow, making it unable for him to identify the kneeling figure. The voice however, was enough to let him know that there was probably a horrified look on his face, as it begged towards the figure.

"Silence!" yelled another voice, this one sounded weak and frail, but still commanding enough that the kneeling figure stopped his begging immediately and recoiled in what Harry presumed to be a painful resignation.

"You keep disappointing me, servant!" rasped the voice, and Harry felt that it was strange to hear a sound so hateful come from a voice so silent. Harry knew, however, that such a thing was not impossible and the proof was being shown to him right now. Just being in the presence of the voice brought an overwhelming sense of dread inside him, worming its way into his body.

"Perhaps this will make it so you remember to take my orders more seriously,  _Crucio!_ " snarled the small, spiteful voice. After that the pitiful shadow on the ground started screaming as he spasmed in pain. The sounds were inhuman, as though it was coming from the voice of an overgrown rat and not a person. Harry tried to shut it out by pressing his hands on his ears, but it was no good. The screams were still pounding in his ears.

The worst thing however, is that Harry felt that he was  _enjoying_  it. As if the screams filled a hidden, dark, and primal part in his very being. The green-eyed wizard, now pressed his hands against his head. He needed to get out!

The whole scene started to get blurrier, until only blackness remained, yet the squeals still persisted. Harry thought he would never get away from them, and would be trapped in the darkness. Despair started to fill him, breathing started to get heavier. It was getting harder to pass oxygen to his lungs. The Potter heir thought he was beginning to pass out, dying would be better than staying even one more second in there.

Coming back to his senses, Harry immediately sat upright, and found himself staring at the Gryffindor common room. The small specks of light meant that the sun was beginning to rise, giving Harry enough illumination to see the state of his body.

Sweat drenched not only his nightwear, but also the heavy sheets meant to keep him warm in the cold Scottish weather. It looked almost as if someone had thrown a glass of water or two in his bed. The feeling of clammy coldness was felt in his body.

Bringing his hands to his head, he felt that his long hair was also wet with his bodily secretions, the salty liquid still dropping from the raven tips down to his chest.

' _It happened again_ ,' Harry realized, still panting heavily from the horrible and realistic nightmare that had invaded in his sleep. His nightly experiences had recently been filled with visions of loveliness and perversity, starring a pale haired beauty. They had frustrated the half-blood wizard, they made him resent the way that Fleur had taken over thoughts in such a way.

Still, the dreams of the French beauty were certainly much better than the alternative.

' _What do they all mean? What are the figures? why did I cast an Unforgivable? Why did it feel so_ good _?'_ Harry's mind went through the questions as his breath was slowly regaining its normal pace. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins now leaving him feeling cold and wet.

He had been so absorbed in the thoughts of the French veela that he had forgotten the things that had been plaguing him ever since Peter Pettigrew had escaped from him and Sirius during the end of his third year. Once again, the Beauxbatons champion had left him vulnerable.

' _Fleur Delacour, you take the nightmares away. I hope you are in the next one… please come back,'_ he begged to himself, almost pathetically. Harry hated how he now needed to depend on Fleur in order to make his nightly escapades pleasurable again.

Harry looked around, hearing the snores coming from the red headed figure next to his bed, he realized that his fellow students were still sleeping, apparently undisturbed by the emerald-eyed wizard's night-terror.

Said emerald-eyed wizard sighed, knowing that they would not be awake for another hour and a half, in order to get breakfast.

 _And people wonder why most male wizards get so overweight when they get older,_ Harry grumbled internally, getting up from his bed, fully intent on starting his morning routine in order to get his mind of the disturbing nightmare.

Making his way towards the dormitory's mirror, Harry's mind drifted off once again towards the Fleur. Yes, Fleur. Harry had stopped thinking about her as the 'French witch' or 'Beauxbatons champion' or 'her', she was now 'Fleur'.

 _It's beautiful name, Fleur Delacour,'_  he thought to himself. He had said it for the first-time last night as he was reading. Harry decided that he liked the way the name seem to come out of his lips. ' _Fleur, flower, a beautiful French flower. A beautiful French flower that will probably never pay even the least bit of attention to someone me.'_

At the last thought, Harry began to grow uncomfortable. That was until he looked himself at the mirror.

Harry did not consider himself to be narcissistic, up until a year ago he did not start to pay attention towards his physical appearance. Starting with the top of his head, he gave a long stare towards his dark colored mane and sighed. His hair had always been comparable to a bird's nest, Sirius laughed when he had tried to comb it during last summer.

"Just like James, he could never get it down, he tried every charm he could, and it would still rebel," laughed Sirius. "Even your grandfather couldn't control his, Merlin knows Lady Dorea tried to whenever they went to a social event, but the famous Potter defiance seems to affect also their hair."

So, Harry had tried to find a solution, eventually looking at the posters of his favorite musicians, he decided to let his hair grow. Now, the raven locks reached all the way to his shoulders, and kept growing.

Harry frowned slightly, it was getting  _too_  long, so much so that it was now interfering with his sight. He would need to get a hair tie soon, in order to prevent his hair from getting in the way of his eyes. Around his face, the early signs of a small beard were beginning to show.

His eyes were the next noticeable thing about him, some people would tell him it was the thing that drew most attention to him, especially the people who had known Lily Potter. Green orbs stared back at the reflection, the only evidence that his mother had left behind in him. Harry had taken to using contact lenses in lieu of glasses ever since they were broken against his fight with Quirrell. They were a temporary measure until the eyes matured enough to get Lasik surgery performed on them.

The rest was pure Potter: hair color, height, broad shoulders, and long arms. The traditional body that characterized his father's family.

The body that he had been training since a young age. Sirius, at Harry's behest, had involved him in Muggle physical activities. It started with the little league soccer team over at his school in Berkshire. At seven however, after seeing many Bruce Lee movies, he asked his godfather to enroll him in the local dojo – which he still attended to this day – in order to learn how to fight with his body.

The rigors of his physical activities had left him well toned. Taking of his shirt he noticed the beginnings of a six-pack forming, and his arms already had well defined muscles. Even Harry had to brag a little in that he was one of the most fit students in Hogwarts. His physique – combined with his tall height – made him very desirable to the witches of his year, and some fifth, sixth, and seventh years as well!

Hell, even if he might have only been imagining it, Nymphadora Tonks seemed to be blushing when she went over during the summer to Sirius' and Harry's house.

Maybe that's why most witches were not currently hospitalized, they did not wear the badges mocking him the previous day. Indeed, most of the people that were currently occupying beds at the hospital wing and St. Mungos happened to sport a Y chromosome.

Quickly changing into his training gear, he once again made his way down to the castle grounds, and unto the Black Lake. Upon his arrival, he was once again met by the sight of Viktor Krum, who appeared to be doing the morning stretches.

Surprisingly, however, Viktor Krum was not the only figure that seemed to be making an appearance in the morning.

Behind him, other footsteps were heard, making Harry turn around to greet the newcomer. He was met with the yellow clad figure of his fellow Hogwarts student and Triwizard Champion, Cedric Diggory.

Cedric looked over at Harry and after small look of surprise, gave a small smile, "Seems I was not the only one who is also taking his training seriously, am I?"

Harry smiled back, his head pointing towards the figure of Krum, who was already at the lake, "Not the only one indeed. Krum and I have been here since yesterday," informed Harry.

"Let's go meet him then, I guess a bit of fraternization between champions is in order," Cedric answered, now making his way to the Black Lake to meet the black and red clad Durmstrang champion, who was now stopping his morning routine in order to greet his rivals.

"Good morning, nice veather for training isn't it," came the accented voice of Krum, who, to the Hogwarts students' surprise, was giving them the ghost of a smile.

"Nice weather?" asked Cedric, incredulously. It had to be at least five degrees in the cold Scottish autumn, the humidity making it so that the freezing wind stuck right into their skin, seeping into their bones.

"Yes, in Durmstrang there is alvays snow, so ve cannot train outside, it is difficult to exercise vhen you are limited to inside school," responded Krum in a cool manner, breathing deeply to take in the cold, humid air that was characteristic of the Scottish Highlands.

"Where is Durmstrang?" Harry asked, he knew Beauxbatons was in France but he did not know where the infamous eastern European school was located.

"It is in northern Norway, close to Barents Sea," answered Krum.

Harry understood, that far north it would always be frigidly cold, and on winter the nights would be longer, leaving them with little daytime to help them keep warm amid the low temperatures and snow. Even the longer days during summer would not be enough to generate enough heat to let them stay out of the shelter for a long time.

"How do you deal with the cold? it's bad enough when winter comes over here," asked Cedric, now starting to stretch his arms in preparation for the morning exercise.

"You don't, you take shelter from it and vait, and stay in castle all the time," answered Krum, giving Harry and Cedric an idea of what life in the cold, Scandinavian school was like.

Harry felt that he much preferred Hogwarts if what Krum was saying was true.

"So, it seems the Triwizard Champions are now going to be training pals in the morning huh? I mean we're pretty much all here," pondered Cedric, looking at the other two wizards who would end up being his rivals when the Tournament starts.

"Ve are not all here though, there is another one of us that still missing," reminded Krum. Harry knew that he was referring to Fleur, causing him to tense up slightly, something that Krum managed to catch. The Bulgarian champion sent a slight smirk his way.

"Do you think she's coming, I don't think she likes the company of men. You've seen how she treats them when they approach her," said Cedric. Harry knew what he meant, having seen Fleur look at the drooling simps that approached her with looks of contempt. Cedric then added, "It might also be too cold for her, I've heard that Beauxbatons is in southern France, near the Mediterranean Sea, it must be a completely different weather for her to get used to."

"I vouldn't vee so sure about that," said Krum, his eyes now looking past both Hogwarts champions, and unto the small hill where the Beauxbatons carriage had been situated.

Harry and Cedric both turned around to see what had caught Krum's attention, and were struck by a sight of loveliness that made Harry's heart start beating faster. The thoughts that had been with him the previous day came roaring back as his world was now centered on what lay before his eyes.

The very person that they had been talking about was now walking down the hill, Harry noticed that Fleur was wearing a light blue tracksuit – almost celeste in color – that was doing a very good job at hugging the contours of her body. The luscious long hair that she usually let flow behind her back was now tied into a long ponytail.

One thing Harry did see however, is that she shuddered slightly, making him think that Cedric did have a point about Fleur being unaccustomed to cold weather. She started to move her limbs arms gracefully, in what seemed an attempt to get her blood pumping for a warming effect.

Suddenly, Fleur's attention now turned towards the three other figures that were also at the lakeside. Harry saw her small lovely smile corrupt itself into her usual haughty expression, her eyes narrowing over at her rivals. Not sparing another glance, she then turned away and proceeded walk to another site around the Black Lake.

"Ouch!" muttered Cedric sarcastically before letting out a small chuckle, "So I guess we can't count on Frenchie to join our little club,"

Harry had heard Cedric, but his attention was focused on Fleur's retreating form, a small pang throbbed in his chest in sadness. The lovely woman that he had held the last morning was now gone. Replaced once again by the "Beauxbatons Champion". Still, the green-eyed Gryffindor was looking at the sensual movement her tied up hair was making.

' _Where did you go Fleur? Where is the real you? I saw her the last day.'_

Harry kept looking at her until he felt the light touch of an elbow prodding into his ribs. Looking at the source, he found the smirking faces of Cedric and Krum staring at him in amusement. Cedric broke in laughter at first, and to Harry's surprise, Krum actually  _chuckled._

"What happened Harry? Want to go and take her into your arms again?" said Cedric in between pangs of laughter.

Harry paled slightly, "You saw that?"

"Saw it? Harry, you were staring into each other's eyes for almost a full minute before you let each other go!" revealed Cedric, still letting out small chuckles as he tried to recover himself, "Cho later told me that it looked so romantic," he mocked lightly.

"Veela… I don't know if I should feel pity or envy," said Krum, still smirking at him.

"You guys are getting this all wrong, Malfoy was right beside her with six badges on his robes, she would have gotten seriously hurt if they exploded in her face," Harry tried to explain, but neither Cedric nor Krum seemed to be convinced by his explanation. It did not help that Harry felt his face heating up when being reminded of the events that took place the day prior.

"Sure Harry, saving someone absolutely involves having your faces mere inches away from each other and ready for a good long kis-"

"We should get started with our training, if we dally any longer we won't get any breakfast," interjected Harry, trying to change the topic of conversation.

"What about breakfast? I'm sure there will still be enough food for all of us, half the damn school is hospitalized. Remember?" retorted Cedric.

' _Oh yeah, I remember. I was the one who put them there after all,'_  thought Harry with a small smile of satisfaction.

"They deserved it, that vas a childish display," said Krum, the contempt in his accented voice evident. No sooner did he say this, that he started to jog, "Keep up, or I'll ve the one vinning Tournament," and with that he sped off.

Cedric then started to do his stretches. Taking off his sweater in order to make it easier for his body to move around.

Harry took his sweater off as well. Before starting his stretches, he took one last look at the retreating figure of Fleur Delacour, before sighing and returning to the task at hand.

' _I really want to see the real you again, no matter what it takes.'_

* * *

If anyone were to were to look at Fleur Delacour for the first time without knowing her, they would assume that she was a princess straight out of a fairy tale. Her unearthly beauty certainly made her seem like one. The kind that would end the story on the arms of a charming prince that would love her forever. The stories would tell you that the princess would also return the love, and the prince would never dare to lay a hand or hurt the prince. Most muggle girls were raised with these stories, and the same could be said about Fleur Delacour.

Of course, Apolline Delacour would tell the stories to her sweet daughter, every night as she slept she had told her about how there would be someone out there for her that would treat her like the little princess that she was. When she grew up she would then marry this man and would live happily ever after. The young Fleur Delacour ate it all up.

Not that her mother was to blame of course, she was only trying to shelter her precious daughter. Fleur later came to realize how much different real life was from the stories.

When she had entered Beauxbatons, she had her usual group of friends, ones which she believed she could trust. That was until puberty began.

One of the characteristics of being a Veela was that they matured much differently than human women. Rather than starting to develop from girls to women in their teenage years, Veela remained stagnant until they matured enough mentally to deal with the stresses of womanhood. This was an evolutionary trait of Veela to prevent them from reaching their full potential until they were ready.

For Fleur, that meant that while her friends were starting to grow, develop, and start to gain interest in the opposite sex, she was still stuck with the appearance of a small girl even at the age of fourteen. Fleur still remembered the said days when her so-called friends started to abandon her, afraid of being associated with the 'little girl', and the boys stopped being around her in favor of her human friends.

Fleur cried to herself in her Beauxbatons dormitory during those days – completely alone except for some of her teachers and Madame Maxime – she wished for nothing more than for people to pay attention to her.

' _I should have been careful of what I wished for,'_

When she was almost at the age of fifteen, attention is definitely what she got. From one night to the other she matured from an eight-year-old girl, to a breathtakingly beautiful seventeen-year-old woman.

Fleur remembered being ecstatic, so filled with joy that she did not mind the fact that had to wait for her parents to take her for a few days off from Beauxbatons to buy her new clothes, as well as take her to the Veela elders for inspection. When she returned to Beauxbatons, surely her friends would come back to her!

But Fleur was wrong. Instead of ignoring her, they now began to hate her. The attention that she wanted… she got. The reason for their hate was the way the males now acted around her. Being a young, newly mature Veela, Fleur did not have the control that some of the older Veela had acquired through experience, that and the fact that she was also more powerful than most of the others, something that made it notoriously difficult for her to control her charms at normal levels. This made her allure very powerful to the boys and young men. Even some of the teachers had to be trained to ignore it as best they could.

There was no charming prince for Fleur, the handsome boys that she wanted attention from now turned into aggressive and drooling barbarians at the sight of her, eager to do anything to gain her favor. If they managed to stop drooling around her that is. They got even angrier when she began denying their requests for physical contact.

She remembered one particular student: Gustave Lefebvre, who was almost three years older than her. He was particularly insistent, always looking at her in a disturbing manner. Following her between classes and all the way to her dormitory.

That is, until one day, when Gustave decided to use the newly learned  **Bombarda** spell on her door during the middle of the night. Fleur listened to the banging sounds from her bed as she saw her magically enforced door shaking. Eventually even the door that had been charmed by Madame Maxime herself exploded. Gustave entered the room with a crazed, lust filled expression; her wand left her hand after he fired a disarming charm, then proceeded to force himself into her bed, tearing away at her clothing.

A panicked Fleur tried to force him away, but it did no good. Sensing her distress, her  _other_  form had to take over. When the teachers finally got to her, Gustave had to be sent to the hospital for third degree burns.

After that Fleur realized that she could trust very little people outside of her family, she would have to be constantly on guard, and the probability was that she would never find someone that could resist her charms the way her mother and grandmother had found theirs. Her daily life was exhausting ever since that day, she lived in constant vigilance and only allowed herself a very select company.

She asked Madame Maxime herself to train her to defend herself, and so became the school prodigy after that.

The only positive thing after the event was that she made new friends who had heard about the situation. All women, except for one man.

Louis Duval was the only man in Beauxbatons that seemed to be able to resist her allure. Fleur had been glad that she had one very attractive man that seemed to be interested in her for more than just her body and beauty. He seemed to only have female friends, which was odd at first but Fleur

When Fleur had gotten interested enough in Louis she had asked him if he wanted to go out with her, hoping to start a relationship that could possible flower into something more. Unfortunately, she discovered the Louis was not… interested in women as other men were.

Louis was still one of her best friends, but it definitely left Fleur disappointed.

' _The only man that seemed to be decent, and I can't start a relationship with him.'_

Fleur sighed as she returned to the carriage after her morning workout. She had opted to go out early, hoping that there were no other students around to see her exercising. The young Veela reasoned that with most of the male Hogwarts population now having to receive medical attention, she could find some time in the morning just for herself.

It had started well enough, with her dressing in her Beauxbatons training gear after a good night's sleep following the pandemonium unleashed during the previous day. The loss of overly hormonal teenage males was a blessing for the French beauty.

It started to go downhill the moment she decided to step outside the carriage.

If there was one thing she complained about ever since she had arrived to the British school of magic was the weather. It was unbearable. The wet, humid, and cold air immediately hit her like a brick wall, the light fabric of her tracksuit not fit for the temperatures of the Scottish Highlands.

Walking down the hill, despite the ghastly weather she allowed herself a small smile, thinking about what she would write to her sweet little sister, Gabrielle. The smile stopped however, when she looked at the Black Lake, and saw that the other Triwizard Champions had had the same idea as her.

The three of them were men. She had met them when she had been chosen to represent her school in the Tournament. Two of them were about her age: one of them was dark eyed and broody Viktor Krum, the other was Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff house.

The third one however, was probably the one that had most interested her ever since she had set foot in this god-forsaken country.

She knew about him from the stories. Even in France they had hear the story of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Although if rumors were true, he was technically Harry Potter-Black. He had surprised her first when she went over to the Gryffindor table for a bowl of  _bouillabaisse_ , since the one in the Ravenclaw table had been depleted before she even had a chance to get some for herself. Noticing that the lonely raven-haired wizard had a full bowl next to him, she decided that one overly excited boy was better than approaching any of the other tables that were filled with more than one overly excited boy.

She walked over to him, the drooling students following her with her eyes, their actions making her increasingly uncomfortable. Her constant guard tightening even more as she approached the Gryffindor table.

He had noticed the boy was reading a book, not paying attention to her just yet. Internally, she dreaded the moment his eyes look over to her, knowing that all seriousness would turn into absolute stupidity. Fleur was certain he would fall victim to her allure the same way all of the male Hogwarts students seem to be. The red headed boy several seats away was already making her sick to her stomach by letting the half-chewed food out of his open mouth, his face purple.

Readying herself, she finally spoke to him, " _Excusez-moi_ , are you wanting ze  _bouillabaisse_?"

Sure enough, his emerald eyes searched for the source of the voice that had questioned him. Fleur held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Only to be surprised when all he did is widen his eyes slightly, then looked inquisitively at her.

"Am I wanting the what?" questioned the boy.

' _What is this? Where is the open mouth? The drooling? The stuttering voice? The eyes wandering throughout my body?'_

Regaining herself, Fleur once again asked, "Ze  _bouillabaisse",_ her hand pointing to the full bowl besides the raven-haired Gryffindor. Causing him to take his eyes away from her – once again surprising Fleur – and looking towards the large bowl containing the French dish.

The boy then looked back at her, "is it any good?" he asked her sincerely, his eyes once again not wandering across her body, in fact he looked more interested in the book he had been previously reading than the figure of a Veela in front of him.

' _Much better than the greasy slop you barbarians insist on calling food_ ,' Fleur wanted to say, but simply nodded lightly towards the boy. Causing him to take a small portion for his own, smaller bowl, before picking up the larger bowl and offering it to her. "Here, enjoy," Fleur took the offered dish, and saw him promptly go back to reading the book.

Making her way back to the Ravenclaw table, she sat down next to a to a female Ravenclaw student that she calculated could be a year younger than her, and served herself the traditional French dish.

Despite herself, Fleur could not help to look back at the peculiar Gryffindor student that seemed to throw off her allure like it was nothing. Glancing at the Hogwarts student beside her, she asked " _Pardon,_  I would like to know 'o is zat boy over zere," making the Ravenclaw student look over at where Fleur was signaling.

With a small blush, the Ravenclaw student looked back at Fleur. "That is Harry Potter, he's in fourth year. In Gryffindor house," she answered, making the Veela breathe lightly.

"Ze Boy-'O-Lived?" she asked back to the Ravenclaw.

"The very same, although rumor is that he is also in line to be the new Lord Black. When they call his full name it's Harry Potter-Black," added the Ravenclaw student. "You could say that he is kind of our resident rebel, but he is at the top of his year. There are many rumors about him and the things he's done here at Hogwarts."

"'Arry Potter," mused Fleur, now ignoring the Ravenclaw. It was a shame that he was younger than her, finding a man that was so resistant towards her allure was extremely rare. Once found a Veela would usually do anything they could to get the man to notice them and form a relationship. A man that could throw off a Veela allure not only was strong willed, but extremely powerful in terms of magical prowess.

' _That is unfortunate, he is a little too young… and a little too British.'_

She stopped thinking of him as too young however, thanks to the events that were to follow.

She had been angry when he was also apparently chosen by the Goblet to compete in the Tournament. She believed that she deserved to compete, she had been training for so long to prove herself as a witch and to show the world that she was not just a pretty princess. She did not believe him when he said that he had not placed his name in the Goblet. Unfortunately, she may have said some words that she regretted.

He gave her a look that conveyed an emotion that she had never seen from any male since she had matured. Fleur was used to looks of lust, want, need, desire, shock, and even hunger. Never had she seen a man look at her in anger as Harry Potter did.

Still angry, she once again complained about the fourth Triwizard Champion. She would regret it, Harry Potter had erupted in fury, revealed the Potions teacher and the Durmstrang Headmaster to be Death Eaters, and stormed out of the room in sheer rage. Fleur still remembered being shocked at just how mad he was. He had slammed the door so hard that one of the hinges busted, and several pots in the room fell and broke.

That definitely made an impression on her, but she just thought she was now an incredibly aggressive person that she did not want to have contact with for the rest of her life. So, she once again returned to her routine for the following days, having to concentrate on her training for the tasks that awaited her. Everyday having to ignore the stares that were being sent her way. By this point she was seriously considering staying at the carriage for the rest of her time in Hogwarts, but Madame Maxime had told her that it was expected that a champion present herself to the rest of the school.

What she did not expect was what had happened the previous morning.

A loathsome blond-haired boy from Slytherin and his boorish friends had brought quite a bit of badges mocking Harry Potter. She looked over in disdain as he passed them around, she knew many people would consider her to be a little haughty, but she never turned to the outright mocking cruelty that the Hogwarts students seemed to be displaying.

She had heard of the blond boy. Apparently, he was the epitome of the stereotypical British pure-bloods that considered themselves better than everyone else. Fleur had caught him staring at her at times – like almost everyone at the Slytherin table – not doing his ideals any favors by behaving just like everyone else. His pure-blood was still not apparently strong enough to prevent him from ridiculing himself.

He made an even bigger fool of himself when he tried to give them to the Durmstrang students. They – like her – looked at him in contempt, Viktor Krum giving him a disapproving look before signaling to his friends.

The Durmstrang-Slytherin "alliance" had been dead after that, with Viktor Krum leading his schoolmates away from the green and silver table. The blond-haired ponce then turned his attention towards her and the other Beauxbatons champions. Fleur mentally sighed when she saw him, his idiotic fat goons, and his pug-faced friend make their way to their spot in the Gryffindor table.

She sent a warning look to her friends: Amelie, Clemence, and Monique; who later went on to sent warning looks themselves to the rest of the Beauxbatons students. When the loathsome boy arrived, nothing but glares received them.

Oh, the boy still tried to give some to them, and when he approached her he did so with a stuttering voice and glassy eyes. She gave him the biggest, most contemptuous glare that she could offer until the heavily cosmeticized pug-faced girl elbowed him so they could get away. Said girl then told her what she had come to expect of most jealous women, with an added bigoted twist of course.

"Stay away from him, you filthy creature! the only thing your kind serves for is servicing your betters! Stay away from us proper pure-bloods!"

Fleur only responded to her with a practiced tone, "Oh, zank you for ze advice. If I evair wanted to look for an excitable leetle boy like 'im, I will cake myself in w'ore makeup, making me look so ugly zat 'e would look for any ozzer woman zat eesn't me."

The response caused her friends to laugh at the now red-faced girl.

She did have to reluctantly thank the boy however, the stupid badges for once took her attention away from her. Fleur felt that enough attention was taken of her that she was able to lower her guard, and thus, loosen the control of her allure. She began to talk and smile with her friends, causing her charms to increase significantly. The beautiful French Veela was finally happy for the first time since setting foot inside Hogwarts.

That was until she heard the explosions, causing the entire Great Hall to fall into chaos screams of confusion and terror filled the room.

Fleur saw her friends look hit the floor, trying to find some cover under the tables, Clemence was screaming at her to get down, pulling on her blue Beauxbatons uniform trying in vain to get her to take shelter along with them.

Inside her mind, Fleur Delacour was a mess. She could not move, Suddenly, she was a newly matured Veela hearing the banging noises being produced by Gustave's wand against her door. She stood frozen in place, even when she saw the terrible blond boy from before with the explosive badges close to her face all she could do was place her hands in her ears to try and drown out the pandemonium, and shut her eyes. She was expecting to be blown away any moment now.

No harm came upon her however.

She first felt the rushing speed as a presence seemed to push away the hateful Slytherin boy away with a violent shove. Then she felt something that would usually make her react violently: two toned arms grasped her lithe body, and turned her around so that she was now being placed safely away from the soon to be exploded pompous blonde.

The strong, broad chest signified that she had been grabbed by a male. Panicking momentarily, her mind once again returned to the violent pawing appendages of Gustave Lefebvre. Fleur now expected rough, violent hands to start violating her sensuous body, taking advantage of her helpless state.

No hands came however, only the increasing noises of the exploding mocking badges. Reluctantly, Fleur decided to let her guard down again, all defenses coming down. She grabbed the man's robes tightly, and buried her face into the side of his neck. Her subconscious detected the smell mint leaves, a very nice fragrance that helped calm her during the chaos.

Calm, a mental state that had forever been denied to Fleur Delacour. Always having to be in control of herself, always composed, never letting herself trust anyone, always aware that if she let go, there may be unfortunate consequences.

And now she was letting it  _go_.

In her vulnerable state, she was letting go of everything, putting all her trust into the male figure she had not even seen with her own eyes, and she felt  _peace_  as she did so. Digging her nose into his neck and breathing deeply, she felt so secure in this man's embrace as the banging noises started to die down. The thoughts of Gustave and all the men that had taken advantage of her before now far away from her mind, like they had never even existed.

When the sounds died, she finally dared to open her eyes, only to find that she was still being held by the figure tightly. Slowly letting go of his robes, she finally spoke.

" _Pourriez-vous me laisser partir? S'il vous plaît?"_

The figure did not seem to notice what she had said. In her nervousness, she had forgotten that she had spoken in French. Regaining her senses, she tried to remember her English.

"C-could you let me go? Please?" Fleur asked once again. The figure now turning his attention to her.

Her blue eyes met the young man's green orbs. Fleur was taken aback by the color, and the fact that there seemed to be no gazes of lust as he stared at her. She was being drowned in them until she remembered that she was still being held by a man.

Fleur waited for the usual response, waited for him to take her. Most men would do so in a position like this, and they would do so when the French Veela was in control of her allure. Fleur was not in control anymore; the man was being blasted with the full force of it while he held her.

Yet, instead of doing anything, the young man simply looked into her eyes, his arms still embracing her securely, but in a kindly manner, the way no other man had ever held her before unless you counted her father, Dominique Delacour. Fleur also noted that his mouth did not open, his lips remained close as they were so very near to touching her own.

Finally, the young man did something that no other man would do in his position, he let her go. She felt his arms leave her, still staring at her intently. Fleur stayed still while he did so, as his arms left her perfectly formed body, she once again started to remember that she needed to rein in her allure. After letting it all out in the emerald-eyed wizard's arms, she felt her personal prison come back as she regained control.

"Zank you," she gasped, still looking at those strangely familiar green eyes.

Finally, she tore away her sapphire eyes away from the man and started to make her way to find her Headmistress, getting worried about what happened to her and the rest of her friends during the chaos that had reigned in the Great Hall.

They had returned to the carriage that day, and Madame Maxime had given them the day off to regain their bearings after the traumatic experience that they had suffered that morning. Fleur, however - being a Triwizard champion - had attended a meeting with Madame Maxime.

" _I have gained information about your rivals, none of them were injured during the disaster that happened this morning,"_ Maxime informed Fleur, reminding her about her role as a representative for her school.

" _Fleur, even if he is younger than the others. I've learned things about Harry Potter-Black makes me believe that you should not underestimate him,"_  The Beauxbatons Headmistress told Fleur.

Fleur then was struck with emotions and let out a small gasp as she remembered the events that had taken place earlier that day.

The emerald-eyed wizard! The one that had held her and did not seem to be affected by the full blast of her allure! It had been the Harry Potter all along!

' _The little boy_ ,' Fleur remembered shamefully. In her memories of that morning, Harry Potter-Black did  _not_ have the appearance of a little boy, but of a young man.

" _-eur, Fleur!"_ the French champion heard her Headmistress, pulling her out of her thoughts, " _Are you sure you are well, Fleur?"_  the giantess questioned, making Fleur's attention come back to reality.

" _I am sorry, Madame Maxime, please continue,"_ Fleur said to the Beauxbatons Headmistress.

" _As I was saying, I have heard rumors about the boy from a credible source. He has been the source of quite the talk in 'Ogwarts ever since he arrived three years ago,"_ explained Madame Maxime, gaining breath before continuing what Fleur realized would be a long story.

" _You know about the story of the Boy-Who-Lived?"_ seeing Fleur's nod, Maxime continued, _"After his parents were killed, he was taken and raised by his godfather, Sirius Black. He, along with Harry Potter's father: James Potter, were the youngest Auror captains in British history, which tells makes me believe that Harry Potter received advanced training when he was younger. Sirius Black, along with Harry Potter, disappeared from the Wizarding World until the moment of Potter's first year. By the time the year ended, young Monsieur Potter was rumored to have defeated and killed an undercover Death Eater that was secretly posing as a teacher,"_ Madame Maxime told a stunned Fleur.

The beautiful Veela looked incredulous.  _"Killed a Death Eater, and adult? While he was still a first-year student? How is that even possible?"_ asked Fleur, nervousness forming in her stomach.

" _I do not know that, all that I know is that the very same day that Monsieur Potter had been hospitalized, the body of the Death Eater was seen. His body was almost completely destroyed, a hole the size of a Quaffle ball was in his chest,"_ explained the headmistress.

Fleur was growing increasingly shocked. ' _How can a mere boy kill a fully-grown wizard? That is not something that can just happen_.'

" _There is more,"_ continued Madame Maxime.  _"Last year he and his godfather tried to hunt down the escaped prisoner, Peter Pettigrew. The same man that betrayed Harry Potter's parents to the dark lord. They were set upon by dementors. Sirius Black was incapacitated and could not hold them off. That's when Monsieur Potter-Black cast a fully corporeal_ _ **Patronus**_ _charm that repelled dozens of dementors,"_

Fleur stood up from her chair,  _"No! I do not believe it; such a thing is unfeasible! It is unthinkable to believe that a third-year student can cast a full_ _ **Patronus**_ _charm! Not even I can cast a full one!"_ she exclaimed, astounded at the revelations that her headmistress was telling her about the young man.  _"Is the person who told you these rumors actually telling the truth? With all respect, he could be lying to you Madame?"_

Fleur noticed that Madame Maxime actually…  _blushed_ , before composing herself,  _"Suffice to say that I can trust the source enough,"_ the giantess stammered.

" _But Fleur, this all pales in comparison of what I heard happened in his second year. Have you ever heard of Salazar Slytherin?"_  Fleur nodded affirmatively and Madame Maxime continued.  _"In his second year, Salazar Slytherin's chamber was opened, and his monster began attacking the students. It resulted in several petrifications; fortunately, no students died. One girl was taken to the Chamber though, and was almost killed."_

Fleur attention was focused solely on her headmistress now, following her every word.

" _She would have died, Fleur, if Harry Potter did not discover the Chamber and followed the monster to its lair,"_ Madame Maxime then took a long, deep, shaking breath before continuing.  _"Fleur, the monster he found there. The monster that he killed… was a basilisk,"_

Fleur sat aghast at what her headmistress told her.

' _A basilisk… no, that is just not possible. It cannot happen. A single boy cannot kill a basilisk. It must be false! It must be!'_

A basilisk is considered to be the second most dangerous creature in the Wizarding World. The only thing that is above it were the legendary massive Iceni Black dragons that had not been seen since the times of the Roman Empire. For a second-year student to of have killed one of them by himself? Such a thing is unheard of!

" _You see Fleur, he is not just a little boy. They say that greatness flows in his veins,"_ said Madame Maxime.

" _His veins?"_

" _Do you not know about House Potter, Fleur?"_  the giantess asked her prodigious young student, causing her to shake her head.

" _They are the oldest wizarding House in existence. They trace their lineage to the patrician families of the Roman Republic. They organized the campaign against Britain and succeeded. They have been in these islands since before Merlin and the 'Ogwarts founders. Their family is one that produces leaders, conquerors, and mighty heroes. Monsieur Harry is the last of his line, maybe those stories are true after all,"_ explained Madame Maxime.

" _I overhead that he won't be wearing the Gryffindor colors to the tournament, because he is not representing Hogwarts. He is wearing the ones of his family. Red and Black… those colors and the dragon banner attached to it struck fear in the hearts of men long ago. Be wary of him Fleur!"_  warned Maxime and Fleur nodded.

" _But then again, maybe they are just stories,"_ pondered the headmistress before casting  **Tempus** charm.  _"Dea Matrona, it is already this late! It has been a long day Fleur, go and get some rest,"_ Maxime shooed, and Fleur was left to her thoughts.

Which brings Fleur to the present predicament. Out of the corner of her eye she spied on the figure with the long, raven hair while she began her morning exercise. Stretching her lithe body as she pondered what had been revealed to her about Harry Potter last night.

' _It had to be lies, jokes made at Madame Maxime's expense_ ,' Fleur thought to herself. The things Madame Maxime told her were tales straight out of the muggle fantasy books. There was no way a fourteen-year-old boy was capable of such feats. Not even fully-grown wizards had such capacity, she would tell the rumors to the other Hogwarts students and they would laugh in her face and question her where she heard such outrageous claims.

And yet, Fleur continued to doubt herself. He had resisted her allure, a full blown Veela allure. Such a thing was almost unheard of. Even her father Dominique would get glassy eyed, albeit momentarily, if his wife, Apolline, unleashed the full power of her allure.

The way Madame Maxime would tell her rumors of Harry Potter reminded the times her mother would take her to see the Veela elders along with the other young Veela girls. Her grandmother, Agathe, and the rest of the more mature Veela would tell them legendary tales of beautiful Veela women who would only take into their company the most capable of men.

Agathe would tell her granddaughter that Veela women would seek the best, and would always get them in the end. The fearsome conquerors, the charismatic leaders, the mighty heroes. Veela would turn their head on the followers, seeing them as not worthy to be in their presence. Only the best men were able to resist their allure and claim them for themselves.

' _But he is just a boy!'_  Fleur reminded herself, before once again taking a quick peek at the figure of Harry Potter before she started running along the lake.

' _He sure does not look like a boy, that one seems to already be a young man,'_ a hidden, primitive part of Fleur seemed to retort inside her mind.

' _No, he is too young, there will be others that are more suitable for him. Maybe a younger Veela could look for him. Maybe Gabrielle…'_ Fleur's more rational side countered

' _How hard is it for one of us to find a proper man? I enjoyed letting my guard down, to let my allure flow freely like it is meant to do, to be in his arms again,'_ Fleur's inner Veela raged.

' _But… but he is British! An uncultured savage, a barbarian that will-'_ "Oof," gasped Fleur. Too busy with debating with herself, she had run into the figure of the very same person that had been at the center of her thoughts.

She felt as she ran into what seemed like a brick wall, then started to fall backwards. Fleur prepared herself for impact.

But, almost as a repeat of what happened the previous day, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her body; pulling her body from an inevitable fall to the hard, cold stones, and settling her once again on her feet.

Fleur, now regaining her senses, looked around at her situation until he found herself staring at the same emerald orbs that she had been thinking of previously. The silver-haired witch looking at the full figure of Harry Potter-Black.

Like Maxime had said, he now seemed to be wearing a set of colors that were not representative of Gryffindor. Opting for a pair of black pants, combined with a red sweatshirt. The latter article of clothing had an engraving on it.

A black dragon, one that according to what she had read in the Beauxbatons private library last night, was meant to represent an Iceni Black, was engraved into the center. Its open mouth was roaring at an unseen enemy, black flames spouting from its jaws. Crossed around the dragon were two Roman gladius swords, a nod to their Roman ancestry. The Potter symbol was certainly eye grabbing.

Yet her attention once again turned to the eyes of the man holding her. His eyes once again were clear yet powerful. None of the usual dreamy, glassy texture was seen. His mouth remained shut, no disgusting liquids falling from it, and his face remained calm, something that would seem impossible by any person holding a woman like Fleur.

To Fleur's own dismay, she once again felt her herself faltering at the sight of those twin emerald spheres. As her allure flared up once again to its full blast, she saw how those eyes stared deep into her soul, almost demanding that she surrender all control to them.

And she did.

Fleur felt that inner peace from the last day reemerging as she gave herself to the young man holding her. The inner Veela nature inside of her swooning as she gave her complete trust to the younger wizard. She felt so free now, like it was always meant to be this way for her. The young prince her mother had told her about in the tales was finally coming for her.

_No_

The memory of Gustave Lefebvre once again coming to her mind. She painfully reined in her allure. The burden of control settling on her tired shoulders once again.

Taking one look at Harry Potter-Black's green eyes, she tore her gaze from him with a visible wince and ran in the other direction. The direction where the Beauxbatons carriage was situated.

' _Remember, there is nothing like that for you. The tales were false, they do not exist,'_ Fleur thought to herself as she sprinted as fast as she could back the carriage.

' _No! Can't you see? He no little boy. The elders said the truth, go back to him!'_

' _No. He is too young, Fleur. Stop thinking about him. Don't hurt yourself any more.'_

The green eyes and raven hair still lingered long in her mind long after she had arrived back into her room and crawled back into her bed.

* * *

Harry James Potter kept looking at the carriage that the silver-haired goddess had disappeared into long after she had pulled herself from his arms when he prevented her fall. The intoxicating feeling of having her back in his grasp leaving the Potter heir light headed.

After the Fleur he had seen the previous day had seemingly disappeared again, he had started to despair a little, resigning himself to yet another day. He started to do his morning exercise with stretches. Followed by sit ups and crunches, and finally practicing his martial arts moves.

He had been breathing deeply when a figure slammed into him.

Instinctively grabbing the source of his disturbance, he once again felt his arms encircling the shapely figure of the woman that had taken over his thoughts. He stared at those beautiful blue eyes. This time taking more time to appreciate the lovely witch that had once again found her way to him.

Her mouth slightly open, she was taking deep breaths after the physical exertion she had been putting herself through. Her narrow face was perfect, framed by her defined cheekbones. Perfectly symmetrical.

Her hair was like a sea of silver. Pure and untainted. The eyes however, were still the most attractive part of her by far. He could not get over how beautiful they looked. Especially now that she did not have that haughty attitude she had shown earlier.

That's right, the Fleur he had seen the previous day was back. The arrogance gone from her made her even more beautiful. Beside him he saw that even the usually composed Cedric and Krum were now sporting dreamy eyes and were slowly but surely opening their mouths, as if to say something.

And just like that, she was gone. He heard her gasp once again. The lovely sound engraving itself into his ears. With a look of pain on her face, she tore herself away from now. This time not even asking for his permission, and she sprinted back towards the hill where her school's carriage was.

"Wait!" he shouted, but it was no good. She just kept running away from him. He was about to run after her but the chuckling sounds of his new friends beside him made him stay put.

"And what do you call that Harry? Are you sure you don't want to go run after her and kiss her?" cajoled the voice of Cedric. Krum simply satisfied himself with a small smirk.

"What?!" asked Harry.

"Do you know how lucky most of the guys think you are after that little display yesterday, and now this?" asked Cedric.

"It's not like that," responded Harry

"Try to convince the rest of the school. Rumor around Hufflepuff is that you are already going out together but don't want the rest of the school to know," responded Cedric

"A few of my fellow Durmstrang students think same thing," Krum said, breaking his silence.

"I really need to get going, I need to shower and get ready for the day" responded Harry, not really wanting to continue the conversation. He then started to make his way back into the castle.

"Suuuure, a nice, long, and very cold shower," teased Cedric behind him, Krum snorting lightly

Sometimes, Harry really wanted to kill his new friends.

The Potter heir made his way back to the common room, and before entering the showers, he went to his trunk to pick his clothes for the day, as well as his school robes.

At this point he did not really know how to get to her. He wanted to see the Fleur that only seemed to appear when she was on his arms. His mind was now thinking about her even as he prepared himself for the day.

' _How do I do it Sirius, how do I get to know one person that keeps running away from me in only five months.'_

He had no idea how to do it. How did his father deal with his mother? Sirius had told him that Lily Evans evaded James Potter for almost their entire tenure as Hogwarts students. It was until the end of their sixth year that they started to truly get close, and by seventh year they were already an item.

Lily had been ignoring him until them. The only times that she did pay attention to his father was when she was lecturing him about treating others better, a lesson his father took to heart later on. Only then did Lily accept him into her heart.

' _Why do you keep running away? I'd never hurt you. That'd be the last thing that I'd do.'_

It was the truth; his fantasies kept his blood pumping but he did not want to force her into doing anything she did not want either. Harry felt that to do something so inhumane to such a beautiful woman was akin to killing a unicorn.

That was when he suddenly remembered what tomorrow was.

Tomorrow they would have the Wand Weighing Ceremony. Only the champions would be able to attend, of course there would be other people as well, but there would not be many of them. If he arrived early, he might have a chance to speak with her privately.

Deciding on his course of action, he picked up his clothes and went on his way to get ready for another day.

He would have his chance then. He will finally have the chance to speak alone to Fleur Delacour.

**AN: Chapter III is here, and quite frankly I have to say something.**

**I am officially done making promises.**

**When this story first floated into my mind one tired Sunday evening. It started as something simple: "Make a BDSM story between Harry and Fleur". They were my favorite Harry Potter pairing, so of course it sounded logical to make something I had not seen before. I wanted my own shot at Harry/Fleur and I wanted to make it have a unique twist that no one had done.**

**Mind you I have never committed myself to writing something like this before, and I almost didn't. The short prologue I initially wrote was less than 1k words and was more of a commitment to myself to write a story with that little idea I had.**

**Now it evolved into something more. The initial plans I had for it are now gone, it grew into something else. The way the contract is going to be done now will be far more consensual then it was initially planned in my little head.**

**I promised that this was the chapter that would deal with the contract, instead I ended up making a Fleur POV of why I see her as being a perfect candidate for a sub role in BDSM. So, I failed you guys on my original promise, and I won't be doing them anymore. The kinky part of this story will have to wait.**

**On the other hand, I am extremely grateful for the attention this little story has received. I love reading all of your reviews and suggestions; so keep them coming!**

**If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a huge heavy metal fan (Harry's personality is kind of derived from that in this story if you saw the hints the last chapter), so I have kind of made it my "author mark" to name my chapters after songs and albums that inspired me while I wrote the chapters**

**And the name of this chapter is "Angel Witch" a song by the British NWOBHM band Angel Witch on their debut album… Angel Witch… yeah. Not many people know about them today, but they were legends in the burgeoning heavy metal renaissance in England after the popularity of punk music. The main guys of that movement were Iron Maiden, but many people forget the other awesome bands that came from there: Saxon, Grim Reaper, Motörhead, and yes, Angel Witch.**

**The song almost singlehandedly inspired me to write this story. Check out the lyrics and song and don't tell me it reminds you of what a Harry/Fleur relationship could be from Harry's point of view**

**I hope to keep this little tradition going throughout the story, and my other stories.**

**If I have any Batman/DC and Naruto fans reading this, head on over to my profile to see the other stories I have planned out and give me your thoughts.**

**Don't forget to give your review!**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage**


	5. I Don't Believe in Love

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**No longer Fleur's Kinky Contract but A Godfather's Promise. That's it, it's over, not changing it. Is it overdone? Fuck it, let's concentrate on writing the actual story instead of fucking with the title.**

**Harry meets with his godfather, and asks for his advice with his Fleur problem. He also makes new friends from Slytherin. Fleur deals with her internal conflicts and desires as the Wand Weighing Ceremony approaches.**

**A guest review mentioned that I made House Potter too powerful in my universe. The word I'd use is notorious. The Malfoys and other families have more influence in terms of political power (in the Wizarding World at least), the Potters are kind of the rebels of the Wizarding World, they are the wealthiest and most notorious thanks to their history of being in cahoots with the muggles, and their military might, but they are not political people. Hope that clears it up a bit. Their power comes mainly from their colorful reputation, wealth, and ancient ancestry. You don't take a dragon as a sigil if you don't mean business, and House Potter certainly did throughout history.**

**This mainly comes from the idea that while healers and mystics in Britain in the middle ages were physically separated from society (and later burned at the stake), Roman priests and mystics were always part high Roman society. House Potter simply stood by their Roman traditional roots, and early Roman tradition was centered heavily in their military and conquests.**

**If I ever do more Harry Potter stories, I will probably keep this idea of House Potter as my own little canon, I really like the ideas I have for it. Like a Potter being alongside Wellington at Waterloo, or being a sanctioned privateer in the West Indies, or a knight in Richard the Lionheart's service. I'm a bit of a history geek so I really like the idea.**

**Another thing: the BDSM angle of this story WILL remain, it's just not going to be smut-centered anymore.**

**Review if you have any more questions.**

**Now, on with the chapter:**

"Dialogue"

_Thoughts_

" _Foreign language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter IV: I Don't Believe in Love**

Fleur did not know how much time had passed since she had returned back to the carriage until Madame Maxime finally came back personally to check up on her. By then she had informed her that it was almost time for lunch, meaning that she had skipped breakfast and her morning classes, and yet, Fleur could still not find it herself to want to leave her bed. Leave her room, go outside the carriage, or be anywhere where  _he_  might still be around.

After running away from Harry Potter, she had immediately rushed back to the carriage and into her room, fighting every instinct that a primitive part she had long ignored told her to do. Upon her arrival, she could only kick of her running shoes and take of her sweater before collapsing unto her bed in exhaustion.

Not physical exhaustion, mind you, Fleur had always considered herself an active persona, a short sprint back to her room would not be enough to exhaust her in such a way.

She was exhausted about everything else.

She was exhausted of the stares, she was exhausted of the food, she was exhausted of the cold weather, she was exhausted with seeing the same drab grey stones every time she walked into that ugly hulking castle the British savages deigned to call a place of learning.

Most of all she was exhausted about how she felt about Harry Potter-Black.

Two times already he had held her the way she had never allowed any man other than her father to hold her, she could never trust anyone else to do so without going wild. Twice she expected him to act like all the rest, especially since she allowed herself to lose control over her allure when it happened. She expected another Gustave Lefebvre to be hidden behind those green eyes.

Yet nothing happened, both times he took the full impact of her unrestrained allure admirably. Not that he was unaffected of course, even the most resistant man would be entranced by a Veela's charms, and Harry Potter-Black was no different. He just didn't reduce himself to a bumbling barbarian when in her presence. Fleur was pretty sure that he was interested, thanks to the way she saw his eyes widen and his touch stiffen when he looked at her.

Thus, her dilemma.

Fleur could not bring herself to give trust to someone she had just barely met, especially someone who – despite his appearance – happened to be almost three years younger than her. He would compete against her in the tournament anyway as her rival. She was sure that after that – if he survived – Harry Potter would just go back to being another man she had met. There was absolutely no reason to think more than that.

' _So why can't I stop thinking about him?!'_ Fleur questioned herself.

' _You know why!'_ that instinctive, primitive part of Fleur that she had buried away for so long replied.'  _He is someone you have been searching for so long, take the opportunity and go to him. He is someone you can relax around and trust not to turn into an excitable savage when he sees you.'_

' _I can't trust him! I can't trust anyone,'_ Fleur replied to herself as she closed her eyes, trying in vain to block off the annoying voice that touched her most hidden desires. ' _How do I know that he's not already with someone anyway?'_ she reasoned with herself.

' _Have you seen the way he stares at you? The way his eyes look differently when he holds you? He's definitely interested, and not in the way all the others are. You must take your chance now! If you ignore him now, he won't be interested for long. He's not like the others who will eternally try and win your favor, he will move on. Someone like him will have many girls trying to be with him, and he might accept one of them. Act now and stake your claim, Fleur! You might never get another chance if you don't!'_

' _I can't, I just can't. I want to win this tournament already and for everything to be over with. I want to forget about Hogwarts, I want to forget about this country. I want to forget about_ him _.'_

At this point, Fleur was just trying to get some rest and shut down her desires. It proved impossible, she just continued to lay there, ignoring the several knocks on her door all through the morning. That is, until one of the knocks came accompanied with the concerned voice of Madame Maxime.

" _Fleur?! Are you alright? We have been trying to talk to you all morning. Will you allow me to come in?"_

Fleur slowly opened her eyes, but did not have the will to get up from her bed. She called out to Madame Maxime that she had her permission to enter. The giantess opened the door to her room, comically ducking her head in order to fit in.

" _Fleur, what happened? Are you well? You were not in the castle for breakfast and you missed your morning classes,_ said Madame Maxime, concern present in her voice as she addressed her most prized student.

Fleur sighed, ashamed to look so weak in front of the woman she had come to admire so much in the last years, even if she had her back turned to her,  _"I feel a bit unwell, Madame, but I should be fine with a bit more rest. I shall join you for dinner later in the day,"_  she responded, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

" _Are you sure you are alright Fleur? Tomorrow is the Wand Weighing Ceremony; will you be able to attend it?"_ asked Madame Maxime.

" _I am sure Madame, I will be better with a few hours rest. I promise you I will be back to normal by tomorrow,"_ said Fleur, still feeling awful for lying to a person that meant so much to her.

Fleur heard Madame Maxime sigh softly, " _Very well Fleur, I will send some food to you anyway. It's not healthy for you to not eat anything throughout the day. Don't worry, I'll send you something that's not too greasy,"_ and with that, the giantess left the room, making sure to close the door behind her.

Having heard her headmistress leave her room, Fleur once again closed her eyes. To her relief she actually managed to get some sleep. To her growing despair the dreams were filled with raven hair and green eyes.

* * *

A surprising lack of turmoil awaited Harry when he arrived at the Great Hall. The usual loud talking seemed to be lessened down a notch. When Harry took a long look at the place, he understood why.

It seemed as if half the students were missing, half of Hufflepuff was gone, a third of the Ravenclaws were absent, and only handful of students occupied the Slytherin table. Gryffindor was almost completely intact, but it was still missing a few usual figures.

Harry was taken aback initially by the sight. He had never seen the Great Hall this empty in the mornings, and was about to go ask another student the reason why.

Then he remembered what Cedric had told him earlier. Half the students were now in either the hospital wing or in some cases, St. Mungos. Harry then remembered to the previous day, to his handiwork, the perverse plan he had planned to get revenge on Draco and the people who were mocking him and his family name.

He once again remembered Fleur Delacour, how sweet she had smelled, how soft her voice was, and…

Harry started to shake his head comically. ' _Focus! Think about her later.'_

Spotting what had become his usual place at the end of the Gryffindor table, he saw Neville once again. Walking assuredly towards the Longbottom heir, Harry noticed that for once, Neville did not seem to have his eyes on a Herbology textbook. His eyes were instead focused on the Hufflepuff table.

Harry followed Neville's gaze to the blond-haired figure of Hannah Abbot, who was talking excitedly to her best friend and fellow Hufflepuff, Susan Bones.

Smirking, Harry continued to walk towards the table, when he arrived he placed his heavy bag next to Neville. When he arrived, Harry decided to tease his friend a little.

"What are you looking at Neville?" he asked with feigned innocence, causing Neville to slightly jump comically and look at him with panicked eyes.

"H-h-harry, what do you m-mean, I'm not looking at anything," stammered Neville, his hands trying to find the enormous Herbology book loved to lug around everywhere.

Harry, still smirking decided to stop torturing Neville for the moment, and instead sat down next to him. Looking over at the table, he decided to start his day with some oatmeal and eggs. Neville had already started with his own meal, Harry noticed. He also noticed to his amusement his stare occasionally was focused once again on Hannah.

Harry looked over at his schedule with a smile. Charms with the Hufflepuff, followed by Transfiguration with Slytherin.

' _I get to make new friends, hold Fleur in my arms again, I'm eating a delicious breakfast, and I get two of my favorite classes. How can this day get any better?'_  thought Harry with a wide smile.

A rough cough broke him from his thoughts. Looking at the source, Harry found the now clothed figure of Viktor Krum and the rest of the Durmstrang delegation standing at his side. The Bulgarian seeker looking at him with his characteristic slight smirk, the other Durmstrang students wore stony faces.

"Do you mind if vee sit here?" asked Krum, making Harry recoil back at the question. He had assumed that the Durmstrang students were set on sitting with Slytherin House since day one.

"Uhhh, sure," replied Harry, now looking towards the rest of the Hall. They had suddenly become the center of attention of the rest of the room. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students looked over at them curiously, the few Slytherins that still remained stared at him with loathing. The Gryffindors seem to look over with bright looks in their eyes. Gazing at the high table, he saw Igor Karkaroff send a hateful glance his way. He was probably still angry about being called out as a Death Eater, Harry realized. The rest of the staff just looked back intently.

Viktor Krum's smirk became slightly more pronounced as he sat down next to Harry, the rest of the Durmstrang following suit. More food appeared in the table whose seats had been previously unoccupied. Harry heard a few cheers from the Gryffindor students, turning his head over to see them, he saw that the main cheers came from the Weasley twins. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team also sent cheers their way, making Harry guess that they were glad that true internationally recognized seeker had joined their table. Other students looked with smiles at him. The only exception seemed to be Ron Weasley, who gazed at him with the same looked of abject jealousy he had been receiving since the day he had been chosen by the Goblet as the Triwizard champion.

It was getting annoying how much he and his former best friend's relationship had been strained. Harry knew that Ron always had a jealous streak, fueled by the fact that he was the last of six brothers. Harry on the other hand was the scion of the famous House Potter. Since their first meeting, the Potter heir had made it a point not to flaunt his wealth or his family name, knowing that it would not win his any friends if he started to act like Draco Malfoy, and still Ron had found it in himself to be jealous of him.

' _It's time to let go Ron, otherwise we will no longer be able to be friends any longer,'_ thought Harry.

His attention coming back to their guest, he started to converse with Viktor Krum.

"No offense, but why did you decide to sit with us this time?" asked Harry, to which Krum and the other foreign students snorted lightly.

"I have been waiting for an excuse to leave that table ever since the day vee got here. Yesterday's display just gave us excuse vee needed to get avay from them. The blond-haired  _coochka_ vas already testing my patience from moment I sat down next to him." Explained Krum.

"Not to be rude, but I expected you would like the Slytherins a lot better. I've heard about how Durmstrang… selects its students, and those views are more prominent over in Slytherin than there are over in Gryffindor," cautioned Harry, trying to tell Krum in the nicest way possible that Durmstrang's rejection of Muggle-Born students would not be viewed favorably by the House of Godric Gryffindor.

Krum's smirk disappeared for a second, his head dropping in his hands for a bit before tracing them lightly down his face, his eyes closed as if suffering from a light migraine. Finally, he composed himself enough to finally respond to Harry.

"That policy is getting removed next year," revealed Krum, shocking Harry. The raven-haired wizard had been told countless times by his godfather that Durmstrang were well known for their support of the pure-blood cause.

"Even Durmstrang now understands that it is not possible to maintain current policies regarding Muggle-Borns. There are not enough students that are pure-blood or half-blood anymore," said Krum, looking at Harry intently before adding, "I vas almost not accepted at first."

"Why? You are the best student from your school," questioned Harry, curious as to why exactly someone of Viktor Krum's caliber almost got rejected by Durmstrang.

"My mother is Muggle-Born," revealed Krum, drawing looks of surprise from both Harry and Neville. "They almost rejected me when they saw that, but eventually my father got around them, he is pure-blood. My mother – even though she is Bulgarian – had to go to Beauxbatons to get magical education because Durmstrang rejected her," Krum said with what Harry detected as anger.

Harry decided to add a little bit of his experiences with Krum, "My mother was also Muggle-Born," he said, making Krum's smirk visible again. Harry continued, "She didn't have to go to Beauxbatons though, she got sorted into Gryffindor, which has always been accepting of Muggle-Born students. My father was also sorted to this House, that's how they met and later got married."

Harry saw Krum nod, and then his attention was taken by the various dishes that were spread around the table. The Bulgarian champion started to pick out for himself a hearty breakfast, making sure to pick a mix between British and Bulgarian cuisine.

Speaking of Beauxbatons…

The door to the Hall opened to reveal the now familiar sight of a troop of blue bedecked uniforms strolling into the hall. The Beauxbatons delegation strode to their usual place at the Ravenclaw table, food appearing where they had sat down. Thanks to the extra space afforded to them, the foreigns students separated themselves from the Ravenclaws a little bit.

Harry watched the students of the French magic school sort themselves out in the Great Hall, hoping to take a small peek of Fleur before he had to go to his morning classes.

Just a little bit of motivation to get this already good day going even better.

However, as he continued to watch the Beauxbatons students enter into the Hall – including the three other female students that he always saw Fleur with – it became increasingly clear that she was not with the rest of the delegation. He still continued to watch, hoping that he could get a glimpse of her.

Krum's hushed voice managed to break away at his gazing.

"It looks like your girlfriend is not coming for breakfast,"

Harry's face flushed to a healthy red color, quickly remembering that Krum – along with Cedric – knew full well about his encounters with Fleur and witnessed the scene that had taken place not two hours ago in the Black Lake.

"I-it's not like that," Harry said, embarrassed. But his mind said something else entirely. ' _It's not like that… yet.'_

Krum just chuckled silently as he spent the rest of the meal. Harry managed to compose himself but inside he couldn't help but be a bit concerned.

' _Did I… do something to hurt her?'_  Harry thought to himself, his mind going back to the scene that had taken place in the Black Lake earlier that morning. He tried to remember if there was something that he might have done to harm her. All he could remember however, was her running away from him. The memory did make him think; did he harm her in some way?

Harry spent the rest of the morning meal questioning himself about what he might have done wrong.

* * *

Harry was accompanied by Neville to Charms class. The Potter heir had to admit to himself that he felt excited about once again taking one of his favorite classes. Sirius once told him his mother, Lily Potter, was considered to be the greatest Charms prodigy that Hogwarts had seen in generations. Harry had been fascinated with Charms ever since his first year, but didn't start to take it seriously until his second.

Professor Flitwick had been quick to accept his apology for not trying his best at first, and since then had excelled in almost every charm the part-goblin Charms Master taught. Flitwick had told him that he had obviously inherited his mother's talent, and Harry swore that every time he successfully mastered another one of his spells, the professor would look into the distance, a small tear-filled look in his eye.

Entering the classroom situated in the third floor, Harry and Neville stepped inside to see a couple of Hufflepuff students already seated, and the Professor standing in his desk in order to better see the students that would soon be arriving to take their lesson.

Harry looked over at the two early arrivals and to his surprise saw that the seats had been occupied by two girls: Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Smiling mischievously to himself, he decided that the morning torture he had put Neville through had not been entirely to his satisfaction. Was this how it felt when Cedric and Krum teased him about Fleur?

"Hey Neville, how about we sit next to them," said Harry, his eyes pointing towards the seats next to the two Hufflepuff girls. Turning to see Neville's reaction, he saw the timid Gryffindor's eyes widen before his face started to turn a shade of red that rivalled the Weasley family's hair in sheer intensity.

Turning to Harry, Neville finally stammered out a response, "I-i-I'm not su-sure that's such a g-good idea Harry," he said, a stutter plaguing his speech in a way that would make Quirrell seem normal by comparison.

"Let's go Neville, since we can't seem to get along with our fellow Gryffindors, we might as well get along with the other Houses," said Harry, guiding Neville to the girls.

"B-but Harry, they're from Hufflepuff; Cedric's House! They hate you the most right now after Slytherin," said Neville, trying in vain to stop Harry from advancing further to the girl he had developed a big crush during the last year.

"Well then, we need to start building bridges, don't we?" answered Harry, he and Neville finally arriving to the seats beside the two girls.

"Hey Hannah, Susan," said Harry cheerfully, the two Hufflepuff girls turning to look at the two Gryffindors. Harry almost expected the disdainful looks he had received from the Hufflepuffs in the past few days, only to see Susan widen her eyes slightly. Hannah… to Harry's surprise turned a slight shade of red when he looked at Neville.

"Are these seats occupied? Can we sit next to you?" asked Harry, still observing Hannah's reaction.

' _Shouldn't be too hard for you to get this one Neville, play your cards right and you might just beat the rest of the Gryffindors in our year on getting a girlfriend.'_

' _If I don't get Fleur first that is.'_

"Sure!" gasped Hannah cheerfully, making space at her side for the two students to sit, only to find out that there was only room for one of them. Harry noticed Susan started to move to her side as well to make more space, but Harry had other plans in mind.

"Don't worry," he said to Susan, as he forced Neville on the seat next to Hannah, the Longbottom boy sitting still as a statue as he was next the blond-haired girl. Harry started to make his way to other side of the seats, finally sitting down next to Susan. Thus, the two Hufflepuff girls were sandwiched in the table next to the two Gryffindors.

As Harry sat next to Susan Bones, she started noticing her figure more closely than he had in the previous year. She had red hair. Not bright red like the Weasley family were known for having, but a darker shade of red, almost crimson in color. In the back of his mind, Harry noted that it was similar to the same shade that his mother had in the pictures he had seen. Her eyes were a deep grey, and she had a heart shaped face.

Those traits however, were not the things that drew most men's attention towards her. The reason she had become more popular among the boys of Hogwarts was her chest. Being one the first girls to start developing a womanlier figure, Harry could say that she had the largest pair of breasts of the girls their year. Hell, some of the fifth-year girls were probably looking at her in jealousy at the rapidly increasing size.

When Harry turned to look at him, Susan returned the look with a smile. Harry had been told by Hermione previously that Susan was one of the most down-to earth and friendly people she had met since she arrived in Hogwarts. Even if many Hufflepuffs thought Harry took away Cedric's glory by being chosen as the fourth Champion, it seemed as if Susan did not really care either way.

Harry was also aware that she was the top Hufflepuff student in their year, so she was not all looks as it seemed.

"Hey Susan, how are you doing," asked Harry. The sounds emanating from the classroom doorway signaling the arrival of all the other Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students.

"I'm good Harry," Susan said in a quiet but cheery tone. Harry took this as an opportunity to lean closer to hear ear and whisper.

"She's into him as well, isn't she?" asked Harry quietly, his gaze pointing at the sight of the flustered figures of Neville and Hannah sitting beside them, both of them trying and failing to strike a conversation.

Susan made a large smile that perfectly showed her pearly white teeth, "Totally," she said. Harry and Susan shared a small chuckle at the expense of their two friends.

"Good to see you again!" said Professor Flitwick excitedly, now standing atop his pile of textbooks. The authoritative appearance he may have been trying to present disappearing thanks to his almost giddy tone of voice.

"Now, class take your seats. Today we will be practicing a rather interesting spell that has many every-day uses: the Summoning Charm!" exclaimed the excited half-goblin.

"In order to perform it, you must arc your wand like so," said Flitwick, while waving his wand in a half circle motion, "The name for the incantation is  **Accio**. Followed by the object you wish to summon to yourself," the Charms Master then demonstrated the spell himself.

" **Accio** book!" and a particularly massive textbook flew at Flitwick who managed to catch it admirably despite his size.

"Now, you will try to summon your textbooks," instructed Flitwick, and the students tried immediately to replicate the professor's success. From the corner of his eye he already saw Seamus set his book on fire.

" **Accio** book," Harry whispered, and the book inched closer towards him, but not towards his hand. The Potter heir then remembered his first flying lesson, where he had to call for the broom with his magic, and let the same feeling envelop him again.

" **Accio**  book!" he said more confidently this time, and the book flew to his hand. It was maybe to fast, and it was more forceful than the way he had seen Flitwick get his, but it got the job done.

"Congratulation Mr. Potter! Ten points to Gryffindor!" applauded Flitwick. Making the rest of the class look towards him in either admiration, jealousy, or awe-

Harry smiled, with his lesson pretty much done, he started to look around the classroom to see his classmates' performance.

Hermione, as suspected, was already close to mastering it, while Ron was still lagging behind quite badly. Turning his attention to the desk he was sitting in, he saw Susan was already close to getting the book towards her hand, while Hannah seemed to have a little more trouble getting it to respond.

Neville… Neville looked dejected, in what Harry guessed was his defeatist attitude.

' _He has already given up_ ,' Harry thought, frustrated.

Harry didn't just seat Neville down with Hannah because he wanted to tease him. The green-eyed wizard knew that part of the reason Neville was not very good at casting spells was his complete lack of confidence in himself.

Part of the success that comes with casting a spell or any other type of magic was willpower. The fact is, the more confidently you wave your wand and say the incantation, the more chance of success you have of actually making the spell work. Neville meanwhile, seemed to have completely no confidence in his own abilities. Stunted by the ridicule of his classmates and the constant pressure that Augusta Longbottom put on her grandson, Neville Longbottom thought himself a failure at everything that did not involve Herbology.

Harry wanted to give his new friend confidence, he was going to need a strong ally in the future after all. What better way to give a man confidence than a chance to prove himself in front of the girl they had affections for?

Quickly sending the levitation charm to his book, Harry got Neville's attention. Once the Longbottom heir looked at him, Harry sent him an encouraging look.

Neville sighed, then took out his wand again, and tried the charm, to his own surprise the book moved slightly. Harry saw Neville look at him again, and nodded, this time more forcefully.

The timid Gryffindor then once again tried the spell. To the surprise of many, including Professor Flitwick, the book was sent to Neville.

"Well done Mr. Longbottom, 5 points to Gryffindor!" he exclaimed, making all the students take a look at Neville in an incredulous fashion. How exactly did Squib Neville manage to get the spell right before even some of the more talented students in the class?

Neville however, simply looked embarrassed at the attention he was getting, even more he when he turned around to see Hannah looking at him with admiration. Neville turned a healthy shade of red, even more so after Hannah grabbed his armed and told him if he could teach her how to do it right, causing Susan and Harry to let out small chuckles.

After leaving the classroom, Harry and Neville said their goodbyes to Hannah and Susan, and quickly made their way towards McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom.

If Harry's mother was extremely talented in Charms, then his father was her equal when it came to Transfiguration. Sirius had told him that once James Potter had started to take his classes seriously, there was no one in the entire school that could rival him when it came to that particular subject. Harry's father had even become an Animagus before he even leaving Hogwarts, something that had been an extremely rare feat almost no one could accomplish. Even Professor McGonagall did not achieve her Animagus form until her seventh year.

They arrived in the classroom, to see that there were also other students already seated in place. Unlike Susan and Hannah, who were from Hufflepuff House, these students wore the green and silver of Slytherin House.

The most noticeable one was Daphne Greengrass. She was taller than most of the girls in their year, even taller than quite a few of the boys. She had midnight black hair, almost shining blue in some areas- Unlike Susan's heart shaped face, her face had the traditional aristocratic looks that reminded Harry of Fleur, with the perfect symmetry and high cheekbones. Her eyes were a striking violet.

Next to her was her best friend, a half-blood witch by the name of Tracey Davis. She had dark brown hair and light brown eyes, she had a more girl-next door vibe. The only person Harry had ever seen next to her, in fact. Next to them was the tanned figure of Blaise Zabini, his Italian heritage showing with his dark brown hair and eyes. Of their year, these three were the only Slytherin students that were still intact after Harry had rigged the badges to explode in the Great Hall.

_Now that Malfoy and his goons are not here at the moment, I can probably approach this particular group._

Making his way to them, he was suddenly met by the slightly hostile looks of the three Slytherin students. Still, Harry was undeterred and kept on walking to the table.

"Good afternoon," he said coolly, trying to maintain a nonchalant appearance, even if he saw that the Slytherin trio was undeterred. Finally, Blaise Zabini spoke up first.

"What do you want Potter, think we are easy prey now that the rest of our House is incapacitated," said the Italian boy, his eyes still making a glare.

Harry raised his hands in a pacifying manner, "I am not trying to harm or gloat to you, Blaise, I just want to talk to you," he said, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible. He was well aware of the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry, the two Houses never seemed to get along.

"Say what you will then, and leave us," said Daphne, her violet eyes making an icy glare.

"May I sit down here?" said Harry, pointing to the seat next to Blaise, and before waiting for an answer, he sat down forcefully in the seat, making the three students' glare widen a little, a disgusted look appearing on their face that reminded Harry a little of Fleur.

 _No, not Fleur. Fleur does it in annoyance, not in hatred._  Thought Harry, his mind once again wandering to the French witch.  _Just one more day until I can talk to her, she will be unaccompanied in the Wand Weighing Ceremony, and I can finally have a chance to talk to her alone._

Finally coming back to reality, he noticed the three Slytherin students looking at him.

"Why do you wish to sit next to us, Potter?" demanded Daphne, her voice a mixture between annoyance and curiosity.

"You might have noticed that some of my housemates do not seem to like me very much at the moment, I thought that maybe I might be making some new friendships outside Gryffindor," explained Harry simply.

"And pray, tell us why do you come to us Slytherins?" questioned Tracey, the final one that broke the silence.

"You are currently here, and that means you are not occupying beds in the Hospital Wing, and that means you did not wear Malfoy's obnoxious badges, and that means I do not hold grudges against you three," responded Harry.

"Just because we refused to wear Malfoy's childish badges does not mean that we like you, Potter," Daphne said coldly.

"Believe me babe, there's a lot to like about me if you get to know me," said Harry, making Daphne look incensed at being referred to as "babe". The dark-haired wizard did not know if she was annoyed because she knew the word, or if she didn't know it. Being a pure-blood witch, Harry assumed she was raised without knowledge of Muggle culture

Messing with the magical raised could sometimes be really fun. Hermione and him always did it around Ron.

A small pit started to settle in his stomach when he started to think about his two former best friends. He turned to look at the red-haired figure of Ron Weasley, sitting with Dean and Seamus, cracking jokes with them. Hermione likewise was sitting next to Lavender and Parvati, although she seemed to be interested more in the textbook in her desk than she was in talking to the female Gryffindors.

Before Daphne could respond, Neville finally came behind him and nervously sat down at Harry's side, trying not to look at the three Slytherins.

 _Well, I get the chance to make new friends now,_  thought Harry positively, looking at Neville and the Slytherin trio.  _I really enjoyed talking to Hannah and Susan, maybe the answer to new friendships lays in the other Houses._

_I am also making friends with Krum and Durmstrang._

_And Fleur…_

Finally, enough students settled in their seats that McGonagall finally started the class. His mind once again abandoning the thoughts of Fleur Delacour.

"Today we will be turning the hedgehogs to pin-cushions, I do not expect you to do it in this class alone, so we will be trying to master the spell for several classes," instructed McGonagall.

It was simple enough Harry thought. He quickly took out his wand and successfully turned the hedgehog into a pincushion in his first try, causing McGonagall to award him 15 points. He saw that Hermione also performed the spell, giving Gryffindor another 15 points.

Harry took the rest of the class to see how the other students were doing. Surprisingly, Seamus did not make something explode this class, but was otherwise unsuccessful. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Daphne was very close to performing the spell, with the other two Slytherins close behind. Finally, Neville looked like he wanted to give up.

Convinced that he did not want to antagonize the Slytherins further – and with no Hannah around to motivate him – Harry decided to once again help Neville with the spell. By the end he had already done some progress, but still needed a lot of work.

Daphne Greengrass did do the spell correctly however, earning her 15 points for Slytherin. A nice gesture, but futile. After Malfoy's badge fiasco, there was no way Slytherin had a chance for winning the House Cup this year.

Finally, McGonagall spoke up, "This concludes today's class, for homework I want you to keep practicing with the spell, you may take the hedgehogs with you after class. Be very careful with the though, points will be taken off if you fail to care for them."

After McGonagall bade her students farewell however, Harry stayed until the rest of the class had left. The only one who hadn't left yet was Neville, who was waiting for Harry to accompany him to the Great Hall for their lunch. He looked at Neville in a playful manner.

"I need to talk with the professor about some doubts I have, I'll see you in the Hall in a few minutes," Harry told his friend, watching as Neville nodded nervously and then quickly left the classroom. The emerald-eyed Potter then looked over at the Transfigurations Professor.

"Mr. Potter, how may I help you?" asked McGonagall with a thick Scottish accent.

"Professor, you are aware that I am competing as a Champion," stated Harry carefully.

"I am aware Mr. Potter. I am also aware that I am instructed that you stand alone in these tasks and cannot help you with the competition," chided McGonagall, making Harry think that she was aware of his intentions.

"I understand Professor, I do not ask you to help me directly in this competition. At the same time, you must understand that I am at a disadvantage, all my competitors are more advanced than I am," said Harry, trying to calm McGonagall in order to make her more cooperative.

"Professor, you are also one of the only people that believe me when I said that I did not enter my name into the Goblet," continued Harry, making the Professor sigh tiredly.

"I understand your situation Mr. Potter, and I am deeply sorry that you must go through this amount of danger again this year, but my hands remain tied," said McGonagall sadly, a conflicted look on her face. Harry knew she was trying to help him, but was battling between concern for her student and her professionalism.

"I am not asking you to teach me advanced magic personally Professor, I am asking you to point me in the right direction. If you have any textbooks or scrolls you might point me towards, I'll do the rest myself," said Harry, making the Scottish Professor make a small frown.

"And what are you interested in learning now, Mr. Potter," she said, finally

"Conjuration," stated Harry assuredly.

McGonagall frown deepened, "Mr. Potter, that is strictly N.E.W.T. material, you have not even taken your O.W.L. tests yet in order to get to that level. We are still looking at Vanishing spells at the moment," she said, in her no-nonsense tone of voice that Harry had learned meant that there would be no further argument. Still, he was adamant.

"Professor, I am going against challenges that will be designed for N.E.W.T. level students, if I am to get through this, I need to get a lot stronger," stated Harry, trying to find the best words to get McGonagall's cooperation.

The Scottish teacher still looked unconvinced.

"Mr. Potter, I cannot teach you the intricacies of Conjuration without first seeing Vanishment spells, and that is next year," stated McGonagall.

Harry now took a determined face and posture before picking up his wand and pointing it at one of the seats.

" **Evanesco** ," said Harry confidently, causing the seat to vanish and a look of astonishment settled in McGonagall's face. Harry thought that she looked like she was seeing a ghost when she turned to look back at him. Sighing, he finally turned to the Transfiguration Mistress.

"Professor, you know what has happened to me in the past three years. I have almost died in some of them… and now it is happening again. If I cannot stope what is going to happen anyway, I might as well be prepared for it," argued Harry, hoping that McGonagall would be convinced.

Said Professor looked extremely conflicted for one moment, deep in thought for what seemed to Harry an eternity, before finally closing her eyes.

"I will think about it Mr. Potter, now go to the Hall and get some lunch," said McGonagall, a tone of finality in her voice.

 _It's as much as I'm going to get right now, I guess it's better than being to "no",_ though Harry, accepting the Professor's answer before giving his gratitude and leaving for the Great Hall.

"Mr. Potter," he heard McGonagall say as he was leaving the classroom, making him turn back to face her.

"Yes, Professor?" said Harry.

"…the chair," said McGonagall in comically demanding manner. Making Harry smirk in amusement.

"I'm sorry Professor, I'm afraid I do not know Conjuration," he said smugly before leaving the disgruntled Transfiguration teacher behind.

* * *

Arriving at the Great Hall for lunch, Harry was still surprised at the fact that the Durmstrang students were all seated at the Gryffindor table. Some of his housemates were now trying to talk to the foreign delegation. He made his way to them and sat down between Neville and Krum.

Tired by their morning classes, it seemed that neither of them wanted to talk. Instead they filled their plates with the offered food and started to eat promptly.

Harry noticed that – unlike the French students – the students of the Norwegian school actually seemed to enjoy the British cuisine, taking large amounts for themselves and eating it with gusto. He quickly remembered that a lot of the Durmstrang students came from Eastern Europe.

 _I guess after the number the commies did on their countries, they count themselves lucky that they can eat anything at all,_ thought Harry.

Harry himself started to fill his plate with a heavy meal. Being that he was physically active since a young age, he always ate quite a bit more than other people without gaining much weight. So, he made himself a side dish with fish and chips: a British staple.

As he picked up his utensils to start eating, his attention turned to the Ravenclaw table, and to the Beauxbatons students. His eyes quickly going through them; however, among the light blue clad French delegation, he could not find the figure of Fleur Delacour.

 _Maybe she is taking time off to train for the Tournament, maybe she is going through her spells, maybe she is occupied with thinking strategies on how to beat us,_ thought an increasingly nervous Harry, yet in the back of his mind another, more worrying thought was trying to worm into his thoughts.

 _Maybe she's had enough,_ thought Harry.

_Maybe she's had enough of the stares, the drooling, the constant propositions, the attention she always gets. Maybe she does not want to deal with it anymore and decided to stay in the carriage for the rest of the Tournament,_

The thoughts flew by Harry, each more one more pessimistic than the last.

 _Maybe today was the last straw,_ thought Harry as he remembered how he had held her in the morning.

A deep pit started to form in his stomach. If Fleur decided not to step into the castle for the remainder of the Tournament, all chance of him getting close to her were moot. There would be no opportunity to speak to her. The thought of not seeing her again for so long made his heart sink slightly.

 _There's still tomorrow_ , the optimistic side of him thought,  _she still needs to be there tomorrow for the Ceremony._

A nudge from his side interrupted his train of thoughts. Looking for the source of the discomfort, he found what looked to be a Gryffindor first year student looking at him.

"Harry, the headmaster says he wants to see you after lunch in his office," said the boy, making the Durmstrang students look at him. Getting flustered at the attention, the first year then made his way back to his seat quickly.

 _What does Dumbledore want now?_ thought Harry as he squeezed a fresh lemon unto the fried fish, his hand roaming to find a particularly big chip and bringing it to his mouth.

* * *

"Sherbet Lemon," commanded Harry to the statue that hid the entrance to the headmaster's office. He had learned that Dumbledore had a quirky habit of having his passwords be named after several types of candy – both magical and Muggle – and Harry was trying every combination he knew in order to gain access.

Sure enough, it seemed as the last one was the correct one as he saw the floor below him start to rise like an elevator, sending him to an upper level where Dumbledore awaited. The floor kept on moving upwards for a few seconds until it stopped, revealing a simple yet sturdy wooden door. Knocking on it, he heard the muffled voice of the headmaster from the other side.

Opening the door, he was met with a sight that he had seen several times already, considering how much trouble he had gotten on in the three previous years. So much so that, while not intricately familiar with the office as a whole, what he saw was almost exactly what he had pictured in his mind.

Everything, except for two very important people

"Sirius, Remus!" exclaimed Harry the moment he noticed the two people that had had the biggest role in raising him. They were both sitting next to the giant desk that Dumbledore worked at, the headmaster seated on the opposite side of it.

"Pup!" said Sirius, standing up from his chair in order to walk quickly towards Harry, embracing his godson in a tight, fatherly hug when they finally made contact. Harry returned the gesture himself, making Sirius lose his breath slightly.

"Merlin, you are already stronger than me, and almost as tall as your father was," said Sirius as he started to let go of Harry.

Indeed, Harry was already almost as tall as Sirius, in another year he will probably be surpassing him in height.

"Forgot about me, Harry?" Remus Lupin's voice interrupted in a humorous manner. Harry made his way to him and embraced the werewolf with another hug. This one lasted a little bit less than the one with Sirius, but it was still filled with warmth and appreciation.

"As much as I appreciate a family reunion, there are things we must discuss immediately," came the unusually grave voice of Albus Dumbledore. He was sitting tiredly in his desk, looking like he had not slept for a week. For all Harry knew he  _had_  not slept in a week.

The three of them made their way back to the desk, a new seat was conjured in order for Harry to sit down next to both Sirius and Remus. Once they were all seated, Dumbledore finally started to speak.

"I have been investigating around as most as I could about the circumstances in which we find ourselves in. Doing my best to find out why the Triwizard Tournament was allowed to come back in and who were the people who supported it," explained Dumbledore in a serious manner. The information made the other three people pay close attention to what was going to be said.

"Upon Harry's insistence I went to see how the Ministry voted in favor of the championship, there were many people who supported it and opposed it. Though there were many outliers there was one coalition specifically that managed to get it passed," explained Dumbledore.

"Let me guess; Malfoy Sr. and his Pureblood Coalition?" said Harry sarcastically, remembering telling Dumbledore that the Malfoy Patriarch would have a hand in this whole thing.

"Quite right Mr. Potter," responded Dumbledore, his voice lacking any amusement.

"That dodgy cunt," Harry growled menacingly, making Sirius smile slightly.

"Mr. Potter, that language is-,"

"Completely adequate," interrupted Sirius, his voice also dangerously low, "That tosser that married my cousin already tried to kill a large part of the school two years ago, if anyone deserves to be called a cunt, it's Lucius Malfoy."

"So, there's the answer, someone is trying to kill me after all," stated Harry, his voice now neutral. Yet inside him, there was an anger bubbling to high levels. The last time he had felt this angry, only the sight of Fleur managed to get him to calm down.

"I have to say, these elaborate plans to kill me are quite something aren't they. The Italian and Russian Mobs would just send someone to you to riddle you full of bullets. These wankers go to such extents to get someone killed. What's next? Manipulating a building to fall straight below me at just the exact moment?" asked Harry in sarcastic annoyance.

"I understand your anger, all your anger," said Dumbledore, referring not only to Harry but also to Remus and Sirius, "However, there is nothing we can truly do right now, I can't just go and confront Lucius with this or they'll find out we are on to them," the Headmaster continued.

"So, we just sit down on our arses and let Harry get himself killed!?" exclaimed Sirius, losing his normally playful attitude in favor of slight anger.

"I never said that, that is why I called you here," said Dumbledore, standing from his chair in order to go to his Pensieve, after staring at it for a few seconds he turned back to the three visitors.

"I am bound as headmaster of the school to not break previously agreed to rules. As such I cannot help you in the competition, Mr. Potter. That is why I have called Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black. They are the ones that will help you train for this competition. You must survive, you must live so that we may foil their plans," stated the headmaster, making the other occupants' eyes widen significantly.

"Are you sure you want us to do this? Are we allowed?" asked Remus.

"The rules of the tournament say that the Champion cannot receive support from the teachers. I am not blind however, I know that Mr. Krum and Ms. Delacour will receive help from Igor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. You two, however, are not teacher or faculty, it's hardly against the rules that you help your charge," said Dumbledore, revealing his plans to help Harry. It made sense that he might not want to break the rules himself and leave it instead to Sirius and Remus.

"Not that it matters, from what I remember, you two never had much respect for the rules," he said to Remus and Sirius with an amused tone.

"You got that right old man," said Sirius, his grin finally returning.

"In the meantime, I will continue to observe the Ministry and the Pureblood Coalition to see what they will be planning next. I leave young Mr. Potter in your capable hands," said Dumbledore.

"Headmaster wait," said Harry, his mind now going to more selfish thoughts.

_If I'm going to compete in this shit-show, I might as well take as many perks that come with being a champion that I can take._

"If I am going to be sneaking around and training until late hours in the night, I think some changes in my daily and living arranges are in order," stated Harry confidently, making the headmaster look at him in confusion.

"What do you mean, Mr. Potter?" asked Dumbledore.

"I think it's best if none of my housemates learn about my new activities, I do not wish to go around sneaking all the time for nightly lessons" said Harry.

"What is your solution then?" questioned the wizened headmaster.

"I wish to get my own room, outside of the Gryffindor common room," said Harry. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a proud Sirius' grin getting bigger by the second.

"I do not think such preferential treatment will go well with the rest of the school," said Dumbledore.

"Give one to Diggory as well, then you can tell the rest of the school that it's a new Triwizard Tournament tradition or something of the sort," said Harry, making the tired headmaster sight before answering.

"It does seem like a good idea, and it makes it so our activities are more inconspicuous. I shall think about it, and you will have my answer tomorrow. Now I must rest, I will not be accompanying you at dinner, and… please try to stay out of trouble," and with that, Dumbledore dismissed them.

"No promises," said Sirius, before leaving alongside Harry and Remus.

As they were making their way down the magically powered elevator-statue, Harry was made aware of the nudging caused by the elbow of his godfather. Turning to look at him, he saw the ever present mischievous grin of Sirius Black. A look like that could either be very good for Harry or cause him extreme embarrassment.

It seemed Sirius was intent on doing the latter.

"Soooo… I've been listening to a few rumors," Sirius mused to his godson, making Harry feel a little nervous.

"What about?" questioned Harry in the calmest manner possible. Though inside he was already getting nervous about what his godfather would tell him.

"Well, some of the things that happened yesterday. Exploding badges? Really?" said Sirius.

"What about them?" asked Harry.

"Please tell me it was you Harry. Please?" begged Sirius in a mock display of admiration to his godson.

Harry let a small smirk slip out of him, a comical expression hiding the fact that he was referring to one of the most violent and darkest acts he had made in his life. Sirius did not seem to care.

"I knew it! I knew it would be you! Ah, James, if you could only see your son right now, you would be so proud!" beamed Sirius, his previously serious tone taking the laid-back mannerisms Harry had grown used to while he was growing up with his godfather.

"How did you do it?" asked Remus, a little more concerned, yet the old prankster was still hiding in the tone of his voice.

"Runes," Harry answered simply, making Remus let out a small amused whistle and making Sirius laugh.

"I knew it was a mistake not to take that class while we were in here!" guffawed Sirius, his left hand now coming to cover his face in hopes to muffle his laughs. He kept on laughing all the way until the statue was back to ground level. Finally regaining his composure, he then looked at Harry with an even more playful manner.

"I also heard about what happened next, between you and a certain French girl," said Sirius, his eyebrows waggling at Harry.

Said wizard dropped his smile, the familiar butterflies in his stomach reappearing, along with the sensation of heat flowing through him. His face was slowly but surely turning a healthy shade of red, making the smiles of the two older men widen so much that Harry thought they were going to rip off their faces.

"I-it's not like that!" Harry sputtered, though his body reaction was telling a completely different story.

"I knew it was only a matter of time, though I never imagine you would have gone for a French bird. A Veela no less! Ah, I am so jealous!" exclaimed Sirius, making Harry become even redder at the reminder of Fleur Delacour.

"Then again, I guess you are just following Lord Richard's footsteps," mused Sirius.

Harry immediately become more relaxed and attentive at the mention of his great-grandfather's name, "What do you mean? Are you saying my great-grandmother was French?" he asked his godfather.

"Didn't I ever tell you? Of course she was! I told you, before that Lord Richard was in the early expedition to help the French during the Great War," at this, Harry knew that he was in for one of his family's history lessons. He listened attentively, he had always enjoyed when Sirius told him the stories of House Potter.

"He was just a lieutenant when he arrived. He and his platoon were immediately sent to Belgium, near the city of Mons. Under the command of Sir John French, Richard and his boys who were all Squibs, Muggle-Borns and Muggle relatives, helped the French retreat in what was largely known as the Battle of the Frontiers," said Sirius. Remus and Sirius were now completely quiet.

"Despite his magic, the German onslaught was just too much, and Richard had to send some of his men to the nearest aid station. There, he met a French woman he immediately identified as a witch, with the way she could easily heal the soldier's wounds. He was drawn to her, seeing a pure-blooded noble witch was now treating French, Belgian and British wounden soldiers like a normal person. Though, all he learned was her name at first. Aah, what was it?" mused Sirius, his eyes closing in concentration. Harry waited expectantly, now feeling like he was a kid again, listening to Sirius' stories with fascination.

"Victoire! That was her name! Victoire Vigouroux, though she was later known as Victoire Potter," said Sirius, making Harry smile at the name of his great-grandmother.

_She was French! Maybe I can break the ice with Fleur with this._

"Of course, that was not the end of it. In fact, she was not into Richard at all when she first met him, according to her, Richard was only an 'uncivilized barbarian who though more with his wand and rifle than his mind', and constantly ran away from him" continued Sirius.

 _Running away from him? I'm more like my great-grandfather than I thought!_  Harry mused, remembering the scenes from the previous two days and Fleur's constant need to flee from him.

"Despite giving Fritz heavy losses, Richard and his Tommies retreated back to Paris in order to begin preparations for the great defense. He met her again in one of the hospitals, this time finally being able to speak to her for a few moments. But it was short-lived: The Battle of the Marne had begun, and Richard was once again sent to fight in the front lines in one of the most intense battles in history," drawled Sirius, Harry still thinking about Fleur while still paying attention.

"Richard was promoted to captain, and was sent to the trenches. He was not able to see Victoire for a long time. He never forgot about her however, and tried sending letters to her. None of them were ever responded. The Vigouroux family was not keen on English people. Still, Richard persisted, trying to tell her of the utter hell that trench warfare, and how he kept on going because he wanted to see her again," continued Sirius.

"He did not see her again until the prelude for the Battle of the Somme, Victoire was now in charge of several aid stations, a charge that was unusual for women in the day. Richard was now a top-ranking Major, and in command of his own battalion. Because of the utter hell that the battle turned out to be, Richard often sought comfort in Victoire. She had also been shaken up by the massive amount of wounded and dead. They began to see each other more often. By the end of the war, as the peace negotiations were taking place, both of them went to Victoire's home in Southern France. There he decided to propose to her, and she said yes," ended Sirius. Harry was now smiling softly at the tale.

"So you see Harry, never give up! All you need is to get yourself a uniform, become a Major, and your French Veela will finally be all over you."

Leave it to Sirius to make a joke out of everything, still, Harry let out a small genuine laugh. The first one he had had in a long time.

* * *

After his midday lessons, Harry was now readying himself for a nice dinner, before going back to read some more about offensive charms and dueling. Sirius and Remus told him that they would be staying over in Hogsmeade, and would come every night to a special room where they could train.

Harry arrived at the sparsely populated great hall. He noticed that none of the wounded students had come back. Though that would soon change. Madam Pomfrey had announced that the less affected students would be discharged in a couple of days.

The other thing he noticed to his delight was that a large portion of the male population was once again staring at Fleur Delacour. Though the "delight" part was something of a conflict. He was delighted that Fleur was back in the castle again, making his previous fears of her leaving the public eye unfounded.

He was no longer delighted that other people were staring at her. In fact, it was making him quite vexed.

Still, he started to make his way to his usual spot beside Neville. Krum was now speaking with his headmaster, and the further he stayed away from Karkaroff, better.

Sitting down, he did not even wish to speak to Neville at that moment, not that the Longbottom was asking for it. He had another big textbook on Herbology in his lap, and to Harry's surprise, a book on Charms.

He instead just wanted to focus on two things: food and Fleur.

He glanced at her once he served himself, making sure to not stare at her in the same way the others were. He made sure to only take small direct glances, the rest of the time he would look only through the corner of his eyes.

The most immediate thing he noticed was that she now had a blue silk scarf around her head. It did not look like she was wounded or hurt, making Harry feel relieved. It seemed that it was a fashion statement more than anything.

She was French after all.

Picking at his food, he once again pondered the realization that he had the previous day. He did not longer want to just see her like the rest of the people around. He genuinely wanted to speak to her. The sight of her seemed to already be calming the anger that had been bubbling in him ever since Dumbledore revealed his knowledge of the Tournament a few hours earlier. It was an addicting feeling, like he knew that everything would resolve itself. It made him feel so powerful and he wanted more. He did not want anyone else to see her as he saw her, to touch her like he wanted to touch her.

The mere sight of an older Ravenclaw student going to her on bended knee to ask her out was already getting him riled up. He was almost ready to grab his wand and send him to join the others at the Hospital Wing.

_Is this how you felt, Father? When other people tried to ask Mother out? How did you do it? How did you manage to get her in the end? I do not have the seven years you had. I have but a few months._

Bringing his feeling back into place, he settled for eating once again. The food now tasteless in his mouth as he continued to see other students go propose to the French beauty. It seemed that today was more common than other times. He even saw Ron trying to get up with his face concentrated on her. That was until Hermione pulled him back to his seat and hit him over the head with a large tome.

Taking another direct look at Fleur, he saw as her gaze now pointed towards him.

It was something he had never seen her do, she was almost always looking either directly at her food, or she was looking at one of her friends. Never at anyone else. Yet for just a few, long seconds, his emerald eyes made direct contact with her sapphire blue eyes.

The both of them stayed still for what seemed like an eternity. Harry remembered the calming yet powerful feeling he had felt when he had looked upon her eyes the two times he had held her and he was once again feeling it with just her gaze. It was subdued of course, she was several feet away and the lack of body contact took some of the effect away, but it was still an entrancing sight.

Harry saw several emotions go through her eyes, from confusion, to fear, and what seemed to be like pain. After breaking eye contact, she promptly ended her meal and made her way out of the Hall as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.

Harry let out another sigh. Yet this time, he was determined, he would no longer back away from the challenge. He would pursue her until she finally acknowledged him.

' _Wish me luck, Richard Potter_.'

* * *

Fleur knew she not stay in her room for much longer without other people suspecting about her. She also knew she could not ignore her hungry stomach. Therefore, she knew that she had to go back to the castle for supper.

The problem was, she could not bring her allure back in control after it had been so free in the morning. Deep down inside, Fleur knew she did not want to. Regaining control over it felt like she was trapping herself in a small cage.

She had to go to more primitive measures of being inconspicuous, as inconspicuous as a Veela could be at least. Going through her wardrobe, she changed into her Beauxbatons uniform, and added a big silk scarf to tie around her waist-length hair. It would not do much, but hopefully it would be enough to keep others from going too crazy around her.

Putting as much control on her allure as she could, she finally made her way out of her room and to her small group of friends, before leaving the carriage to go to the ugly, grey castle.

The supper itself was an infuriating event. Despite covering herself more so than before, her mildly controlled allure could not stop the students from going towards her. This time there were not only males, but females too!

Now, Fleur was not a close-minded person, and even had to admit to being attracted to females in that way sometimes. She was French after all! But it did not make her happy to know that she would now no longer have to contend with only half of the student population.

Her worries only increased when Harry Potter entered the Hall.

He was no longer in his dragon themed sportswear, now sporting the usual ghastly Hogwarts robes that the school made them wear. Yet out of the corner of her eye, she acknowledged that they fit him rather well.

Sighing, she went back to eating her slightly larger meal, she had not eaten anything else that day after running from the aforementioned green-eyed wizard.

She made it a point to eat as fast as she could without looking uncivilized. She wanted to finish dinner and go back to the carriage for some more sleep. Tomorrow would be a big day, and she would have to deal with her competition.

In the back of her mind she knew that it would mean having to come into close contact with Harry Potter-Black, and that made her even more nervous. It had the potential to turn into a very awkward display.

After turning down a particularly annoying Ravenclaw student without even deigning to look at him, her eyes wandered to him. Not knowing that he would also be staring back.

The sight of his eyes made her allure want to break free once again.

 _Look! He's interested, this is your chance, go speak to him._  That annoying inner voice came out once again, she had not heard it since she had woken up from her midday rest.

He did not look at her like the others, and the sight of him made a deep part that she had locked long ago before want to come roaring back. Deep down she knew the voice was right, he was interested. But she could not allow it to fester, she had to take control as much as it pained her to do so.

Fleur still kept looking at him, out of the corner of her eye she saw that her unstable control was making the other students look at her more intently. She tore her gaze away painfully from those eyes and went back to concentrating on her meal. She only ate a bit of it more, before she once again stood up and left the Hall. Not as embarrassing as running away this time, but she did not care at that moment. She just wanted to forget all about him.

It was a fantasy, she knew she would have to compete against him, and that means coming into contact with him at some point.

Making her way back to her room, she went to take a scalding hot bath. The warmth relaxing her and making her body forget the cold weather outside the carriage.

She knew that she could not avoid it, and that made it worse. She had finally given up on love, and as if fate wanted to make her miserable, Harry Potter had come into her life. She knew it was impossible, yet her nature was entranced with him. How she would make it through the next months, she did not know.

When she was finished with her bath, she went back her room and put on some undergarments, followed by a satin sleeping gown. Yet as she tried to go to sleep, she could no longer find it in herself to relax enough.

She calculated that a couple hours went by, but she was still unable to get the rest she craved.

Finding herself increasingly and uncomfortably warm, she shed her sleeping gown, leaving her only in the stylish undergarments. To her increasing dismay, her hands started to wander to her breasts, starting by cupping the twin orbs. Followed by fingers slipping beneath the flimsy bra to touch her stiff nipples, a small gasp escaped her mouth as she did so.

Letting go, she reluctantly let her hands go to the nightstand beside her, more importantly to the compartment in it. She opened it, and without looking at it she retrieved the hidden items that she could not bring herself to show anyone. Not to her friends, not to Madame Maxime, not to her grandmother, father, and mother, not even to Gabrielle.

A pair of light blue handcuffs with the key still attached to them came into Fleur's view. Despite the color, she knew that they were strong enough to withstand the struggles of a grown person.

They had been a gag gift from Clemence, during Christmas of last year. They had made a secret gift exchange and made it a point to see who could give out the funniest gift to another. She had settled with sending a pedicured pig's foot to Monique, laughing as she opened it.

When she opened Clemence's gift, her friends had laughed along with her, seeing the present as nothing more than an oddity before moving to the real presents. Yet after the celebration was over, and she left to her room, she tried them on for the first time, and was surprised at how excited she had felt when she did.

It was something that was humiliating to Fleur, she wanted to be strong and a great witch, yet at the same time she wanted to be tied up in these handcuffs when she was frustrated. They became almost therapeutic, whenever she wanted to lash out and lose control, she would put them on for a few minutes. She practiced with them, sometimes with her hands up front. Sometimes she cuffed her hands behind her back. She also began to combine with soft rope, tying them around her ankles, remembering the helpless damsels she saw in some children's movies when she was younger.

Fleur was conflicted every time she put them on, she knew she was giving up control of herself as she did so, but it was so relaxing when she did. The hopes of finding love however, were almost impossible to her now.

To find a person she could be around was almost impossible for someone like her. To find someone who she could be around  _and_ shared an interest in her desires was pretty much an impossibility.

 _I don't believe I will ever find love. So why do I think about him?_  She thought miserably, before turning her attention back to the metal restraints.

She decided to keep it simple tonight, only the cuffs and with her hands on the front. Licking her dry lips, she opened the first cuff and let out a small breath when she closed it around her left wrist, the rattling noise making it clear that it was now secure and could not be opened without the key. She did the same with the other cuff and so she was restrained. She set the key between her fingers beside her as she looked at her bound hands.

Fleur could never bring herself to trust anyone with these proclivities of her. She was too ashamed to do so. She was expected to be in control all the time, and her family, friends, and teacher all encouraged her as she did so. Telling them of her primal habits seemed to Fleur to be tantamount to spitting them in the face.

She let her now cuffed hands wander throughout her body, finally grasping the edges of her knickers, slowly letting the fingers wander into her most sacred part of her body.

She started slow, letting the hand trace the side of her labia, the tips of her fingers teasing the increasingly wet folds. Knowing that she did not wish to sully her expensive underwear, Fleur began to slip it off her core.

Finally, free of her clothes, she truly began to give in to her lustful desires.

As she finally started to touch the tip of her pubis, she thought about how much she wanted for someone else to do these sorts of things to her. In her mind, the hand was not hers but of another person.

The person had locked her hands, taken away her key and wand, and left her to his mercy.

Unlike Gustave, however, the person that she imagined would not be a savage, he would be attentive and sweet, rough at times but always with her consent in mind. Against her better judgement, her mind started to add emerald-green eyes to the man that controlled her.

What made it all hurt more is that she knew she would never find that sort of person. But right now, she did not care, she started to lightly pinch her sensitive pearl and was fully aware that she was letting out small gasps as she did so.

Remembering she had not placed a silencing charm on her door, Fleur decided to improvise and grab one of her small pillows, biting down on it as an improvised gag.

A few minutes of stimulation was enough to bring her to an earth-splitting orgasm, her juices flowing out of her love box.

She lay on her climax, too weak and unwilling to search for the keys or her wand to unlock the cuffs, she simply lay there in the afterglow. All control of her allure now gone.

Utterly exhausted, she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to go back to her dreams. These ones filled once again with black hair and green eyes.

**AN: There you have it, chapter four. This was the biggest chapter yet. Hope it was worth the extra waiting time. I don't think the next one will be as long as this one, since I really had to cover a lot of ground in this one before we get to the exciting stuff on the next few chapters. Up next should be the Wand Weighing Ceremony. Harry will finally speak to Fleur, I am pretty nervous about how it will go.**

**It seems Fleur has her kinky side as well, even if she does not tell anyone of her desires. Though she still seems to be conflicted by them.**

**Sirius and Remus have returned to Hogwarts to teach Harry advanced magic, and Harry is now on his way to get his own space outside the Gryffindor Common Room.**

**Seems Harry is now officially a Neville/Hannah supporter, much to their dismay.**

**I am a bit nervous about writing Fleur, I don't know if I'm doing a good job considering I'm the proud owner of a Y chromosome. So, I'd like to read your opinions if you write them in your reviews.**

**Song recommendation for the chapter is "I Don't Believe in Love" by Queensrÿche from their 1988 masterpiece "Operation: Mindcrime". This is my favorite album of all time. Just imagine the song being from Fleur's POV instead of Nikki as sung by Geoff Tate… without the political assassinations, murdered nuns, and junkie killers of course.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. This story now officially has over of 1,000 followers and 600 favorites, which is absolutely insane for me considering this is my first ever fanfiction. Thank you so much.**

**Don't forget to review if you have any doubts, opinions, or criticism. Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage**


	6. The Dark Side of my Heart

**"Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**I will probably get around to revising the previous chapters to fix some of the bad grammar, so don't be surprised if it shows that the story has been updated without any new chapter. I find it annoying that in order to make simple fixes, I have to update the chapter in .**

**I really wish that adopts a system like DA's that makes it easier for authors to make corrections on their stories without sending an update alert to the story's followers. Thus, if you see an update and there's not chapter, this is your warning. If anyone is volunteering as a beta, I'm all ears. Send me a PM.**

**I am well aware that my writing style has been a bit slow. Hopefully things will start speeding up in the next chapters.**

**Also, sorry for the late update. I've been playing Kingdom Come: Deliverance and Jesus titty-fucking Christ is it an amazing game. Bugs aside of course. I also wanted to wait a while after was fixed.**

**That, and classes have been a bitch ever since I started to do my social service. That shit really cuts down on your personal time.**

**Review if you have any more questions. Or send me a PM, I will answer them as soon as possible.**

**Now, on with the chapter:**

"Dialogue"

_'Thoughts'_

" _Foreign language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter V: The Dark Side of my Heart**

After his normal morning exercise, Harry was once again in the Gryffindor Common Room, now getting ready for what he knew would be an important day. Despite his empty stomach calling out for food, his mind was occupied with the scheduled event that he knew he would need to attend today. Not as a Gryffindor fourth-year student, but as a Triwizard Champion.

Today, he would be attending the Wand Weighing Ceremony, and that meant that Fleur would also be attending.

It was a Triwizard Tournament Tradition. An experienced wandmaker would attend in order to inspect the Champions' wands for any deficiencies. In the back of his mind, Harry also knew that it would be a media moment, no doubt the Daily Prophet would be involved in order to take photographs and interviews.

That meant that in order to have a chance to finally talk to Fleur alone, he would need to arrive early and hope that she would be alone. While Cedric and Krum were also early risers, he knew that it was more than anything out of motivation, so if he arrived early, he might have a chance to spot Fleur before anyone else arrived.

That meant that he would need to complete the scheduled class as fast as possible, thus his problem: Potions.

_'Of all the classes I need to take at that moment, it has to be Snape's.'_

_'Merlin's putrid ballsack!_ '

Harry had gotten a lot better at Potions ever since he started, however, it did not mean that he had to like the greasy-haired professor that seemed to do anything in his power to either belittle him or cause him to mix the potion badly. Sirius had often told him that Snape and his father had never gotten along. Apparently, Snape fancied his mother, Lily. But James eventually ended up with her, and Snape had always resented the fact that Lily chose James Potter over him.

The thought of Snape and his mother ever having contact made Harry involuntarily let out a small shudder.

Quickly getting changed, he started to look over his bag to see what he would be needing during the day. He grabbed his wand of course, several textbooks and a big parchment of paper that did not contain any homework that was assigned by his teachers. It was instead the product of a little project that Harry had been working on ever since he found that large tome two days ago.

It was a small scroll, one that he had written himself. Having read more deeply into the contracts that had been feature in the magazines, he ended up fashioning one for himself. It was a little thing he had done out of boredom, in the long nights where he had been unable to get some sleep.

It was either that or he wanted to avoid the nightmares that he had been avoiding recently. Thinking about how to write such a perverted agreement was certainly out of his depth, but he managed to do one anyway.

Harry knew Fleur had all the advantages. She was older, she was beautiful, he imagined that she was pretty smart if she was chosen by the Goblet to compete, and if what Sirius had told him was true the she came from a very influential family in French wizarding politics, unlike House Potter.

While House Potter was certainly notorious, it had little influence in terms of politics. Harry's family had always been known to be further apart from the rest of the Wizarding World, preferring to consort with the Muggle World as often as possible. It was this reason that prevented House Potter from being named in the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. Pureblood supremacists like the Malfoys and Notts would sneer at his family for making ties with muggles.

If the rumored monetary fortune of House Potter was true, not to mention their large manor, then Harry thought it was definitely worth the sneering.

Apparently the Delacour family was well known in France, and Dominique Delacour was a high ranking official in the French Ministry, that certainly put Fleur above himself in the importance list.

In other words, Harry needed to level the playing field. The thing he didn't know was how he would do it. Thinking about it deeply Harry realized that there was one additional thing that made it almost impossible for him to get on Fleur's level.

He had absolutely no experience with women.

True, he noticed women, growing up with Sirius made sure he had  _that_  particular experience on him since an early age. But he had never really been interested in a single girl before. Fleur had been different. A part of Harry had to admit that her unearthly beauty was a definite part of the package, but there was something else that he noticed when he spoke to Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones previously.

He was interested in women that were not fawning over him or idolizing him. The only women that he seemed to be interested in from the whole female population were the ones that did not seem to be interested in him. The ones that did not stare dove-like at him because of some incident that happened when he was still an infant. Fangirls, he had heard Sirius call them.

One of the girls that was definitely not a fangirl was Hermione. He had been attracted to her initially, but there was one thing that she found completely turned him off from her: her bossiness. Molly Weasley had made it sure that  _that_  particular trait was not something he wanted in a partner.

Fleur was not like Hermione. She was haughty, she was arrogant, she acted like she was better than him. He wanted to prove her wrong, that's one of the reasons he was so attracted to her, that's the kind of woman that interested him

 _'They're the ones that pose a challenge,'_  Harry thought, remembering his first interaction with Fleur. She had belittled him, taunted him, and made him feel like all his accomplishment seem small. It had angered him, but it also made him want to prove himself. Make her realize that he was the best there was.

The way Harry saw it, Fleur Delacour was not a foolish, petty girl that would be impressed only by his Boy-Who-Lived status, and that is exactly what he wanted.

_'Maybe Sirius could help me on this, he certainly knows his way around women.'_

Grunting, Harry put the scroll at the very top of his school bag – he did not want other people to see it, he did not trust his trunk as much to hide something like this – and started to make his way outside the boys' dormitory and into the Common Room proper. He did not know why he did such a contract to be honest.

_'I should probably just burn the thing before it gets me into trouble,'_

When he arrived at the Common Room, he saw the brown-haired figure Hermione Granger, the girl that had at one point been his best friend. That relationship was certainly in question nowadays.

"Harry… I… how are you?" asked Hermione, Harry noticed her usually authoritarian, no-nonsense voice was quivering slightly.

"Pretty good," Harry said dryly, but not in an overly hostile manner. He may have felt a little betrayed by Hermione. But at least she was not Ronald.

"Ready for Potions?" Hermione asked uncertainly, her eyes now finding the wall besides Harry very interesting at the moment.

"Ready as can be considering this is Snape we are talking about. You should be relieved, if you stick to Parvati and Lavender, he won't be on your ass the whole class," said Harry sarcastically. Hermione flinched slightly at the accusation but recovered and leveled a small glare at him.

"You were the one that stopped talking to us!" she half-whispered, her tone a mix between anger, frustration, and sadness.

"Why do you think I stopped talking to you? You were always going to be frustrated that you had a competitor for the first spot. Ron was always going to complain that I didn't spend more times in games. Please don't tell me otherwise, I know you too well," said Harry, getting increasingly annoyed at just how hostile they're formerly warm relationship was getting.

Hermione simply looked at her feet for a moment, her eyes closed for a few seconds before finally speaking in a low voice. "That's not true, we have always been your friends."

"Maybe, maybe not," and with that, Harry left her to stew while he left the Gryffindor Common Room in order to get ready for his day.

Deep down, Harry knew that Hermione did not deserve this, she had been his friend ever since his first year. She had been there when they needed to take down Professor Quirrell. She had helped him figure out that the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was a basilisk. Even when the cracks in their friendship began to show in their third year, she had helped him during Pettigrew's escape.

Harry had to admit to himself, in the last few months he had become to see Hermione as someone who could possibly be more than just a friend.

Yet, despite the role that Hermione had had in his life in the past three years, thoughts of her were lost on Harry in favor of Fleur.

* * *

If there was one thing that Remus Lupin had come to appreciate ever since James and Lily died, it was the quiet and peaceful moments. A far cry from his escapades with his group of friends back in Hogwarts. Back then, everything was an adventure, James and Sirius making sure that there was never any lack of mischief in the school and in their lives. For someone like Remus, going from those exciting days to the mostly droll times he faced now should have been the precedent for what muggle psychologists called a "mid-life crisis".

The war had changed all that.

In war the unexpected stops being exciting and alluring, and instead becomes foreboding and terrifying. The monotone of peaceful days is shattered only by quick moments of adrenaline or horror. For Remus, the pleasure that James and Sirius would bring to him when they would find another way to prank the student and faculty would forever be tainted by feelings of dread that another one of their friends was now dead, or that a particularly nasty group of Death Eaters decided to attack them while they were going on their daily lives.

Yes, Remus Lupin definitely had come to appreciate the quiet and peace, and he was pretty sure that Sirius felt that way as well despite his appearances.

Not many people may notice it. If they saw the same thing Remus was seeing at the moment then they would see Sirius once again being the center of attention, a bar wench was sitting on his lap as some of the inn's regulars were listening to his gaudy jokes. His face broke into a wide smile as he laughed at his own humor.

Yet Remus noticed that his jokes had a certain somber and realistic tone. His laugh was slightly forced, as if trying to hide some long-lost pain, and the smile as he looked at the woman in his lap did not really reach his eyes. The werewolf was the only person really knew Sirius long enough to know the differences in all the little things his last surviving friend did. It took a lot more to make the Black Lord truly smile nowadays, and those moments were reserved only for his closest people.

Unlike Remus, Sirius Black made the best attempts at hiding his pain. Maybe because he had to raise their best friend's son for fourteen years.

As the morning passed and breakfast was served, Remus watched as the customers made their way out of the Three Broomsticks Inn, each of them eager to start their day. Remus and Sirius stayed behind for a while, their business in Hogsmeade was not to work, but to teach their charge, something that would have to wait for some time. Time that the Marauder werewolf was planning to use to speak to his last remaining friend.

"So… another year then?" said Remus, watching as Sirius raised looked over at him with tired eyes. The faux euphoria that had been present not ten minutes ago now gone in favor of an exhausted look.

"Yeah, well, at least now we seem to be getting to know that he's going to be in trouble at the beginning of the year rather than waiting until the end of it to know that he killed a dangerous magical creature," responded Sirius, all the humor that he may have wanted to portray was lost thanks to his cynically downcast face and slight sneer.

"Didn't help us last year," reminded Remus, watching as Sirius' exhausted face took on an uncharacteristic glare.

"That rat got away again!" growled Sirius.

"He won't be running for long, we will get him eventually," consoled Remus.

It worked lightly, Sirius' face returned to the same spent look he had been sporting ever since they had arrived at Hogsmeade yesterday.

"What can I do Moony? How can I stop these events from happening around Harry? I promised James I would take care of him, but every time I take my eyes of him, he always gets in danger," sighed Sirius as he picked his mug filled to the brim with butterbeer and downed half of it.

"I don't know," admitted Remus, his hands also wandering to his own mug.

"What would Lily say?"

"She would understand… and so would James."

Sirius took a few seconds of silence his gaze pointed at the counter. Remus say a range of emotions that raged in his friend until finally he extended an arm and wrapped it around the Black Lord's shoulders.

"If we can't stop these things from happening around Harry… then the only thing we can do is make sure he is prepared," Sirius said finally.

"I think Dumbledore is also coming unto that realization. He always told us he wanted Harry to be ready for whatever challenges. What do you make of that?" asked Remus

"It means that he is finally being honest with us. Harry needs to get stronger… and fast," answered Sirius, his voice now determined.

Remus sighed heavily, slumping down on his chair. He thought of James and Lily then. Why did fate have to take both of them? Even he wasn't convinced about what he had told Sirius earlier.

 _'What_ would _they think about their only son learning how to fight?'_

Lily would probably scream at them. She would tell them that she did not wish for Harry to suffer this. James… he had changed so much after his son was born. While the younger James would have been adamant on teaching Harry the spells he would need to fight, the older James may have agreed with his wife.

Fatherhood truly does change your life in ways Remus believed he never would be able to experience.

"I always knew Harry would not be a normal child, I knew that the moment I picked him up that day," Sirius said softly, taking a small sip off the mug before continuing. A small, genuine smile forming on his lips as he started to talk.

"He was always special… driven. Even at a young age I could see it. He was different from the rest, always the leader, always the fearless one."

"He is a Potter," reminded Remus.

"I know, but he was special even for his family. James took some time to mature, to become truly great. I saw greatness in Harry's eyes before he started his first year," Sirius revealed.

"He always was an…  _intense_  child," said Remus, remembering his limited interactions with a younger Harry. The young Potter certainly had odd tastes in almost everything.

Sirius snorted and almost laughed.

"You should see his porn collection," he commented, his voice a sarcastic whisper, almost as he intended to say it to himself. The comment did cause Remus to cough out a bit of his beverage.

"What?!"

"Never mind!" guffawed Sirius, a genuine smile on his lips, "You're right Remus. If we can't prevent Harry from getting into danger, then we must ensure that he is ready to face it. He's not going to be a child for much longer, he must become a man, and he will have to grow faster than James did."

"He is already more mature than James was," said Remus, remembering when he first met James. "Except when it comes to women. James was already interested in Lily from the moment he saw her."

"There's that French bird, I heard that she's the most beautiful girl that the school has seen. She  _is_  a Veela after all," mused Sirius.

Ah yes, the school had seen new arrivals, including delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. One of these was the famous Viktor Krum. The other person the school had been talking about was previously unknown French Champion, who happened to be a Veela. According to Dumbledore, Harry was interested in her, something that Remus thought was strange.

"I never thought Harry would be attracted by looks alone. I always thought that he would get more interested in someone like the Granger girl," said Remus.

"Maybe there's more to her pretty face. Being beautiful would simply be a bonus," voiced Sirius. "Lily turned out to be more than just a pretty girl."

"Still, a Veela?" questioned Remus.

"A French one at that!" exclaimed Sirius with a smile.

"Even if it does happen, I don't think the Ministry and the British traditionalists would approve," warned Remus.

"Since when does House Potter give a damn what the Ministry thinks? James certainly didn't when they warned him not to marry a Muggle-born. Franky, I don't care who Harry chooses to love, so long as she makes him happy, I'm good," announced Sirius.

"It's still a long shot, I guess," said Remus.

"Didn't you see how flustered he got when we told him? I think he's definitely interested," said Sirius.

"Maybe, that will have to wait. Right now, we need to focus on getting him ready for the first task," said Remus, changing the subject of conversation. "What should we be teaching him?"

"Let's start with some offensive spells," proposed Sirius, now taking a more formal and professional tone. "Once we find out more about what this first task entails, we will teach him something that will be able to help him win this."

"Win? I thought we only wanted him to survive," said Remus.

"I do. Sorry Remus, but you don't know Harry as much as I do. He may not have wanted to compete at first, but now this is no longer something that he will back down from. This is a chance to prove himself," said Sirius.

Remus furrowed his brow.

"What makes you say that?"

"You saw the champion's clothes he ordered? Red and black with the black dragon sigil. He's not representing Hogwarts or Gryffindor, or even Britain. He's representing his House now, and he will try and win under those circumstances," declared Sirius.

Remus only listened at Sirius' reasoning, making sense of what he was saying. It was true, the werewolf had not known Harry as much as the Black Lord had. After the war had ended, he distanced himself from Britain for a few years. He worked underground for Dumbledore in the werewolf communities, trying in vain to bring support over for the Dark Lord's inevitable return. He only visited Harry a few times every year, finally taking a more active role the previous year as his teacher.

He sighed, knowing that deep down, Sirius was telling the truth. What he saw in Harry was the combination of James and Lily at their best. Lily's intelligence and James' drive. Lily's determination with James' stubbornness.

An intense individual through and through.

If Harry intended to win this. Then they would help him throughout his struggles.

* * *

Harry did not hate Potions, despite what many people seemed to believe. He thought that it was one of the most interesting subjects in their curriculum. Sure, it did not involve using his wand, and was not necessarily an art that was limited for only wizards. Due to its nature, even muggles and squibs could probably be able to make use of it, and there were certainly plenty of uses to the plethora of magical potions that wizards brewed.

The reason people thought that he hated Potions class was probably because he hated the person that taught it.

How do you describe the clash between Harry Potter and Severus Snape? To say that they got along like water and oil would imply that they got along like a couple of good friends. It was more probably more accurate to say that they got along like matter and anti-matter, and even then, Harry Potter would say that that particular comparison lacked the vitriol to signify just how much he disliked the Potions Master.

Suffice to say, the less Harry Potter and Severus Snape saw each other, the better. Which is why Harry cursed whatever fate saw fit to give him a Potions class before the ceremony where he could have a chance to speak to Fleur alone.

Striding over to the greasy haired professor, he managed to say his practiced line.

"Professor, I must leave early in order to attend the Wand Weighing Ceremony, if there are any assignments, I would like to know before the class starts," Harry stated, watching as Snape glowered at him with his usual sneer. The Head of Slytherin had probably not forgotten his accusation at the choosing.

"If you finish your assignment early, you may leave, Potter. If not then I will not grade your work," and with that, Snape turned around and looked ready to prepare his class.

Glaring at him, Harry turned away to look at the arrivals. He had once again been early to class, thinking that that would give him a head start in whatever convoluted activity Snape would be assigning them at class. It was a fool's hope, but at nobody could say that he didn't try.

Ignoring the figures of the other Gryffindor students, his gaze was instead drawn once again to the trio of Slytherins that he had introduced himself to the previous day. Once again, they were the only Slytherin students that were in good enough conditions to attend classes.

That would be changing tomorrow, some of the less wounded people would be discharged and allowed to start with their classes once again. This meant that he potentially only had this class to get to socialize with what he considered to be the only three decent Slytherins in his year.

Looking at the other students he saw that Hermione had opted to seat with Lavender and Parvati once again, while Ron sat with Seamus and Dean. Neville stood by Harry's side. Ignoring the pleading looks of Hermione, he made his way to the Slytherin trio once again. This time the glares he received were minimal compared to the ones he got during McGonagall's class. Rather than hateful, they were disdainful.

The real hateful ones came from Ronald Weasley, his frown following him as he sat down in the same table besides Daphne, Neville finding his seat beside him as to avoid sitting directly next to the green and silver clad Slytherins.

Looking around, he saw that Seamus and Dean had joined Ron in sharing his disgusted look at the two rogue Gryffindors. Harry simply gave them a quick nonchalant gaze before looking over at Hermione.

She did not stare at him with the hate he saw in Ron, but he did see sadness in those brown eyes. In any of the previous years, that same look would be enough for him to want to go to her and reassure her. But he had other things to deal with at the moment.

Him choosing to sit down with the Slytherins was not just because he wanted to know Daphne, Blaise, and Tracey better, but also because he knew Snape would bother them less if he sat down next to his precious snakes. With Snape bothering him less than his usual self, it would make it easier for him to finish his potion as early as possible and leave his damn class early. Not to mention, he knew from past classes that Greengrass herself had quite the talent for brewing.

Therefore, he ignored Hermione. Much to his discomfort, he realized that any chance he had of seeing Fleur was taking precedence over the emotional well-being of his best friend. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he instead payed attention to the midnight haired girl next to him.

"So, Potter, you and Longbottom don't seem to be disgusted at our mere presence," Daphne sneered, her violet eyes staring straight ahead as she started her usual belittling.

"I am known for my tendency to maintain only the best of company," Harry retorted, watching as Blaise looked over at Ron Weasley, before adopting an uncharacteristic playful expression he had not seen before.

"Evidently," mocked Blaise.

Harry ignored the jab at Ron as best he could. Deep down, he knew that Ron was not the brightest of individuals, or the most orderly, or the most couth. The reason why he had counted him among his friends initially was because he was loyal to him, something that the red-haired wizard had now been backing away from ever since he was chosen as a champion.

Still, it was a little hard to restrain himself from trying to defend Ron against Blaise's disdain. The Weasley had definitely shared adventures with him in the past, and these recent series of events was not enough for him to regard Ron with any amount of hate. Harry's estimation of him had simply gone down considerably.

"Just make sure Longbottom doesn't ruin it for the rest of us," sighed Daphne, making Neville slump down on his seat, his eyes looking downcast. Harry simply put a reassuring arm around him.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets it right this time," assured Harry while giving a confident shake to Neville in the process.

The greasy, gravelly voice of Snape interrupted them as he gave out his instructions for the day.

"Antidotes!" he shouted, making the entire class stop their conversations and pay attention to the dark robed Potions Master.

"Potions that will save you from the many poisons you can contract from either a magical creature or a… nefarious individual," he drawled the last part while looking directly at Harry.

"On the board texts you will see the instructions for the particular antidote that can save you against the poison of an acromantula. Due to a recent ingredient shortage…" Snape scorned, once again looking at Harry, "…I expect you to work in groups. If any of you dunderheads manage to destroy your potion, then the rest of your team will also suffer," sneered Snape. At his side, he noticed the Slytherin trio glaring at poor Neville, causing him to cower in his seat.

"Now, begin. For next class I also will expect a six-parchment essay on the creation and uses of antidotes," and with that Snape left them to do their work.

It really was not a difficult potion, in fact – considering this was Snape – the potion was fairly easy. The main problem with potions of course, was that it took time to brew them. Time was something that Harry Potter did not have an abundance of at the moment.

Looking at the instruction he noticed that what was needed was really a combination between to different mixtures. Given that the brewing itself was meant to span the whole double class, he imagined that Snape intended for them to do the two mixtures individually, one after the other.

Good thing that he paired with someone who was also pretty good at potions.

"Hey Daphne, why don't you do the first mixture, while Neville and I do the second?" asked Harry, looking over at the violet eyed witch. Said witch looked at him with disdain.

"Don't address me so familiarly, Potter!" growled Daphne, her eyes narrowing. "And why would I want to help you do this quickly anyway?"

"Come on Daphne," the witch's eyes narrowed even more, "I really need to get going, I have to do some champion business and if I don't finish this quickly I'll lose the points."

"And how does that affect me exactly, Potter?" questioned Daphne.

"Look at it this way, the faster we finish this thing, the faster I will get out of your pretty hair and go my merry way," said Harry with a smirk. Daphne in response was now openly glaring at him, though he did notice that her cheeks seemed to be tainted a little pink.

"F-fine," spluttered Daphne. "But you better get Longbottom under control, or he might destroy the potion."

It took some time to get the mixture right, but there were little distractions. Teaming up with the Slytherins turned out to be a great idea. Daphne knew her stuff pretty well, soon she, Blaise, and Tracey were brewing the first part of the formula very professionally, and Harry had not doubt that their side of the potion would be more than adequate.

That left him and Neville to do the second portion… or more accurately, it left him to do the second portion. Yet, without a moment of hesitation he started to grab the ingredients necessary for the potion, all the while instructing Neville on their basic use. He did not go as profoundly as he would have preferred, but he needed to get done as quickly as possible if he was going to have any chance of leaving this class early.

What he did notice however, is that Neville seemed to be doing quite well in helping him mix the ingredients. That is until Snape came over to inspect their work. Immediately, Harry felt his fiend beside him start to tremble so much that he almost messed up the very specific stirring that needed to be made in order to get the best results.

_'So that's the reason he's so bad at Potions. He gets so nervous around the greasy git that he screws up everything. It really says something about your skills as a professor when your presence makes students worsen their abilities.'_

"Potter! Why are you separating your duties!" snarled Snape, noticing Harry's strategy.

"I just supposed that it would be easier and quicker to… divide and conquer," Harry explained.

"Don't give me your drivel Potter, you were supposed to go through the mixtures individually!" thundered Snape, his beak now just inches away from Harry. The Potter heir did not give in to his intimidation, merely looking at him coolly.

"The instructions did not say that, Professor. If you wish to take points from us, then be my guest. Of course, you also said that you would be failing all students in the team," responded Harry, while giving a mockingly pointing his head to the Slytherin trio.

Snape's sneer simply got more pronounced but didn't respond. The small explosion from Ron's team gave him enough excuse to leave Harry's table and instead focus on tormenting another group of Gryffindors.

_'I knew teaming up with the Slytherins would be a good idea. Unless he wishes to see his precious snakes' points go down, he will have to accept these the potion.'_

With no more distractions, Harry and Neville immediately started to finish the final parts of the mixture. It still took them the better part of an hour, and he needed to guide Neville so that he could do them correctly. Once Snape had left them alone, however, he saw that the Longbottom heir actually performed fairly competently in the making of the mixture.

He was not a great student, but he certainly did not have the same tendency for explosions that Seamus and Ron had once Neville was away from Snape's intimidating scrutiny.

"Finished!" Harry declared finally, seeing that his mixture's color fitted the description of the one in his textbook. Turning over, he saw that Daphne was only adding the finishing stirs to their mixture.

"Not bad Potter, you might not be such a useless waste of space after all," drawled Daphne snootily. Harry simply smiled at what he assumed was the best compliment he would be receiving from the dark haired Slytherin girl.

Placing a bigger cauldron, they carefully stirred both mixtures until there the correct color for the antidote was completed. Immediately they called on Snape, who grudgingly gave them a good score.

Looking at his wristwatch, Harry saw that there was still half an hour until the ceremony would officially start. Not waiting for Snape's approval, he simply took his bag and made his way to the classroom where the weighing would be realized.

Dumbledore had told him previously that the Headmasters of the schools would be arriving late to the ceremony, since they would be otherwise busy with their duties. That means Harry would not have to deal with them until much later.

He also knew there would be some sort of press involved. An event like the Triwizard Tournament would surely be the talk of the wizarding world not only of the United Kingdom and Ireland, but also of the magical communities of several other nations. France's and Bulgaria's would certainly be interested in the various interview and photographs of the champions. Harry knew however, that they would most certainly be only allowed to enter when the Ceremony officially began.

Cedric Diggory would be in class, much like he was supposed to be at the moment. Cedric did not have any urge to leave early, so he would most likely arrive until later.

That left only two factors, Fleur and Krum.

He did not know anything about Beauxbatons' and Durmstrang's schedule. Meaning that he needed two things to happen: Krum needed to arrive late and Fleur needed to be there earlier. Two very unlikely possibilities but ones that he desperately hoped would happen.

His quick pace quickly turned into a quick jog, only stopping at the moving stairways that he had to take all the way to the fourth floor. Finally, he arrived at the closed door the Headmaster had mentioned to him. Taking a small moment to compose himself he made himself ready for what may lay inside. Calming himself, he confidently opened the door.

Ever since he had first set foot in Hogwarts, Harry had become aware that if there was such a thing as fate or destiny, it was most definitely not on his side. Every event seemed to turn against him, constantly in danger of what the world decided to throw at him, he needed to be aware at all times that what Muggles called "Murphy's Law" very much applied to him.

Yet there were times that fate decided to reward Harry. When Fawkes came to his aid during his fight against the basilisk, when he conjured a full patronus that saved Sirius from the Dementors. Today, was another day that fate had decided to reward Harry, something he found out when entered the small classroom where the ceremony would take place.

Opening the large door, he was met with the lonely figure of Fleur Delacour.

She was sitting on one of the desks chairs that were strewn across the room, her attention was focused on her wand, which she was polishing with great care with a fine piece of cloth. Harry allowed himself a small moment of weakness and stared at her for a few moments, trying to drink as much detail as possible.

She was dressed in her usual form-fitting light blue uniform. She had abandoned the scarf she had worn yesterday. In fact, she currently did not have her usual hat, letting her silver hair cascade freely down her shoulders and below her waist. The sunlight pouring through the window making the pale strands glow ethereally.

Harry only had a few moments to compose himself before the sound of a new arrival made Fleur look away from her wand and to the source of the disturbance.

For a slight moment their eyes met once again. This time however, the connection was broken first by Harry. The emerald eyed wizard was desperately trying to remember all he could from Sirius' whisky influenced lectures on women.

 _'Don't make a fool out of yourself, don't give her a reason to run, pretend you are not interested in her. Just say something that is in no way suspicious at all._ '

Deep down though, it was a herculean effort to stop his heartbeat from thumping any faster, almost as difficult as tearing his eyes away from those sapphire orbs.

"Hello, is this where the ceremony will be taking place?" asked Harry, silently congratulating himself for not stuttering. Not that the vision before him was not stuttering-worthy. Fleur simply returned her attention to her wand.

" _Oui,"_ Fleur said quickly, and after that she did not pay him further attention.

_'Very good, now act natural. Find a place to sit.'_

Harry eyes quickly found one of the seats. It was two chairs away from the one she was sitting in. He did not want to take the one closest to her in fear that she might leave. So, he picked one that was not too close but not too far either. Sitting down, he calmly took out his own polishing kit despite his rapidly beating heart and the butterflies in his stomach and began to inspect his own wand.

He remembered picking it up alone, while Sirius had stayed behind at Gringotts to discuss something with the goblins. Ollivander had given it to him after several failed tries. Finally, they had settled on an eleven-inch holly wand, with a phoenix feather core. Later, Ollivander hat told him that the same phoenix that had given the feather also gave another one.

That other feather was the core to a wand given to Tom Marvolo Riddle… later known as Lord Voldemort.

But that dark memory was lightened by the young woman beside him. Slightly he allowed himself a small glance with the corner of his eye, which later made him turn his head slightly and to his surprise their eyes met again. Fleur had also been glancing his way.

Before he even had a chance to react, Fleur turned her head the other direction in a snooty manner. A few days ago, Harry would have been annoyed at such a reaction, thinking it was just the French champion being insufferably arrogant. Now, he just thought it was charming, another one of her attractive features.

_'Say something!'_

_'What do I say?!'_

_'Compliment her clothing!'_

_'That's too obvious… and that's her uniform!'_

_'Talk about the weather then!'_

_'Okay… I'll do both!'_

"Aren't you cold?" Harry finally said, wincing internally but congratulating himself at the same time for not stuttering like he had seen many of the boys do.

Fleur simply looked straight ahead, not even looking at him as she responded.

"Eet is a leetle cold," she admitted, her voice almost monotone, yet it sounded beautiful to Harry.

"Don't you have warmer clothing?" asked Harry, his confidence soaring despite the fact that she did not seem to want to engage in conversation at all.

"We 'ave no need for zem back 'ome, we do not 'ave zis ghastly weazer zat you 'ave," responded Fleur, veiled disdain hidden in her voice. Harry thought that it was better than having no emotion at all. Hell, he even started to like her arrogant tone, finding it to be fairly attractive combined with her heavy French accent.

"You could always ask some tailors in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade to make you warmer clothing, we buy all our robes from Madam Malkin's," offered Harry, only to watch to his delight that Fleur turned her head quickly to glance over at him before another disdainful look marred her face before quickly turning it to the other side with a 'hmph'.

It was such a stereotypically pompous gesture that most of Harry's fellow countrymen would interpret as incredibly unbearable. Harry himself thought that it was unbelievably cute.

"If I 'ad to choose between freezing to deaz or wearing zose robes, I will save myself ze suffering and gladly jump out of ze tallest building in zis ugly castle," Fleur said snootily, her eyes closed in a display of disdain.

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. A real laugh, the times he had allowed himself to do so in the last two years were scarce, and sometimes practiced or planned. This time he laughed with little control. It was so strange to him how much one person can change your outlook, yet Fleur seemed to make him feel things that he could not explain, letting all his emotions show themselves finally in a way that neither Hermione or Ron managed to do so.

It just made him want to talk to her more. So, he did so, this time with less apprehension.

"Should have guessed that you wouldn't like our clothes, they are quite practical," said Harry teasingly.

"Zey are not practical. Practical suggests effectiveness. Ze only zing zey are effective at ees making you look uncouth, zey are ghastly," she responded, opening her eyes. Harry thought that her bright blue eyes were looking at him at the sides. Then again it may have just been his imagination.

Harry laughed again, the insecurities he had been feeling about approaching the object of his recent affections evaporating as he did so. But now it was time to change the conversation, make it more interesting for her.

"My godfather told me that my great-grandmother disliked most of Potter Manor's furniture that she immediately replaced it after she married into the family. She was French."

That statement made Fleur look over to him in surprise, their faces finally meeting without any extreme compulsion the way they had before. Harry was mentally cheering that he had gotten that bit of info into his family recently.

_Thank you, Sirius!_

"Really? How did he meet 'er?" asked Fleur, her previously arrogant tone gone in favor of actual curiosity.

"Richard Potter, my great-grandfather, fought in the Great War. That's where he met my great-grandmother, Victoire. They married after the war was over and she became Lady Potter," explained Harry.

"Wait. 'E fought in ze First War?" she asked, to which Harry nodded affirmatively. "But why? Ze Eenlgish wizards didn't take part in ze fighting."

"He didn't fight as a wizard, but as an officer in the first Expeditionary Force. It's a bit of a family tradition, joining the muggle forces despite being wizards," Harry explained. To his delight, he now had Fleur's undivided attention, her wand now forgotten.

"He fought at Mons, at the Marne, and at the Somme. Victoire was a witch, she worked as a field doctor, so she and Richard talked between skirmishes. They fell in love and married," finished Harry.

Fleur simply turned her gaze to the ceiling, as if in deep thought, before leveling her eyes to his own.

"My great-grandfazzer also fought. But 'e fought in Verdun. I nevair got to speak to 'im, but my family said that 'e was not ze same after zat. My 'istory teacher said zat ze battle was…  _horrible_ ," Fleur told him, slipping into French pronunciation at the last word.

"What was his name?" Harry asked, so engrossed with the conversation he had almost forgotten that he was speaking to the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

"Maxence," she replied. "Maxence Delacour."

"May he watch over you during these tasks," he offered, to which Fleur offered him the ghost of a smile. It was enough to make his heart flutter.

" _Merci_ ," Fleur said genuinely.

_'Okay, now it's time to bring out the big guns.'_

"Fleur," Harry said, taking a chance by saying her first name, something that he managed to see made her tense a little bit. Still he prodded on. "I never said sorry."

"Sorry for what?" asked Fleur, but Harry noticed that her tone had become low, her eyes darting slightly.

"You know, sorry for yesterday at the lake, and for what happened at the Hall," explained Harry carefully, seeing the barely noticeable red hue that spread across her refined cheekbones. The dark-haired wizard immediately thought that he was an idiot for bringing such an issue at the forefront.

"Eet was nozzing, I was just surprised… you 'ave seen 'ow ze ozzer boys look at me,  _non?_ " she asked him.

"I have," admitted Harry. He could not really blame them for looking, but he did not like how they lost all control around her. It had been annoying at first, but now that he was actively rooting for a chance with her, it was quite infuriating.

"I zought zat you were someone zat was taking advantage of ze situation. I 'ave to zank you for 'elping me wiz ze blond boy. As for ze lake, I am the one 'oo should be sorry, I should 'ave seen where I was going. I was ze one zat ran into you."

"Anyone would have helped you in that situation," said Harry humbly.

"But zey 'ould not 'ave let me go like you did," responded Fleur.

Harry could not argue with that logic. He quickly looked at his watch and noticed that it would not be long before the others arrived. He quickly tried to remember Sirius' advice when it came to speaking with women. So far it had been very successful.

"Remember pup, when you have to end a conversation with a girl, always try to end it with a promise of a date, even if she doesn't know it's a date," his godfather had told him before he left for his first year. Back then he ignored it as another one of Sirius' useless lessons on relationships. Now it was all the advice he had.

"They sure are taking long, they must be lost through the hallways," said Harry, still looking at his watch.

"Zis castle ees quite confusing, zere is no sense of direction. I almost got lost when I tried to find ze classroom. Zankfully Madame allowed me to not take ze class, so I managed to find it after some time," admitted Fleur.

"You know… if you want a tour of the castle, why don't you ask anyone?" asked Harry.

"I don't trust anyone enough to take me to ze dark places of zis school," she responded.

"I could give you a tour, I don't think you need to be afraid of me, I'm only a fourth-year little boy after all," said Harry playfully.

"I will 'ave to zink on zat offer Meester Potter," said Fleur.

_'Score!'_

Was it really this easy? Just the previous night Harry had not been able to get any sleep on how he would be able to speak to the girl in front of him, and now he was finding out that the only thing he needed was a good preparation and enough confidence to not make himself look like a fool.

Just as his attention returned to polishing the wand, the door opened to allow entry to more people. They were five, two of them were his fellow champions, Cedric and Kurm, the other one was Ludo Bagman, the main organizer of the Tournament. The last two figures seemed to be the media presence that he expected would be covering for the Daily Prophet.

Upon entering, Cedric gave him and Fleur a look before giving him a knowing smirk. Krum simply took one of the seats, apparently back to his normal detached demeanor. Harry used the opportunity to stand up and take a seat next to Fleur.

"I know that reporter Bagman's talking to…" he whispered to the French champion. "… she's a scandal saleswoman, better stay away from her if you don't want to get defamed."

Fleur simply gave an understanding nod. Harry was just blissfully aware of how close he was to the pale-haired beauty. He did notice, however that the woman known as Rita Skeeter and Ludo Bagman sat down in a couple of ornate chairs and started to discuss with one another. The last person he had not noticed yet was a middle-aged man who was busy carrying equipment for what Harry believed would be a photograph shoot. The man was busy until he caught sight of Fleur and started to gaze at her openly.

He could almost feel how uncomfortable Fleur was getting at the staring, and quite frankly, he was getting tired of it himself. A slight anger emerged from him, causing him to discreetly stop running the fine piece of cloth through his wand and instead casting a silent tripping jinx. The next thing the hormonal male knew, he was sent face first to the arms of one of the chairs.

Looking slightly at his side, he could see Fleur turn over to give him a small look, and found appreciation in those blue eyes, quickly followed by a whisper only he managed to hear.

"Zank you."

In response he felt a warm tingling in his spine, along with the satisfaction that he managed to not only please Fleur, but also teach a small lesson to the photographer.

_'You better keep your eyes off her if you know what's good for you.'_

Another distraction rose when Ludo Bagman and Rita Skeeter stood up from their seats and addressed to the champions.

"Everyone, this is Rita Skeeter, she will be writing a small piece on the ceremony for the Daily Prophet!" announced Bagman loudly, all the while sporting one of the biggest grins Harry had ever seen.

"Thank you, Ludo. Now, I would like to start with a few interviews," came the reporter's sickeningly deceptive tone as she surveyed the area, her eyes finally resting on the spot where Harry sat next to Fleur.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman while she watched both champions with glee. "The youngest champion, you know… to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is – if Harry has no objection?"

Seeing the magenta clad reporter heading their direction, Harry contorted his face in the most intimidating glare he could give. Skeeter did not seem to notice, nor did she seem to have a healthy concept of personal space, considering she placed her pedicured hands on his shoulder, trying to make him stand up to leave to another location.

Harry – reeling his anger as much as he could – shoved her arm off. That definitely caught her attention.

"Fuck off!" Harry growled, looking directly into her eyes with a gaze of pure contempt. The shocked reporter tried to compose herself as much as she could. Bagman on the other hand completely lost his grin, his eyes now looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Er… very well then, ladies first!" chirped Rita Skeeter, her predatory gaze now focused on Fleur.

Hearing the reporter's intentions, Harry immediately jumped from his seat, his glare still levelled at the blond slanderer. Without thinking, he placed a protective hand on Fleur's shoulder, making the Veela look over to him in shock.

"Why don't you take your lies somewhere else!" he growled.

Harry saw Bagman compose himself, he looked pathetically helpless. He did finally find the words to calm everyone down.

"L-look, you can just do a piece on the ceremony itself, Rita," he consoled.

Rita Skeeter however just looked elsewhere, as if the confrontation never took place. Her eyes settled on Cedric immediately, and walked over to him.

Cedric himself looked like a deer in the headlights. Harry felt really sorry for him, but he was more concerned with Fleur.

"Hello handsome, you must be the Hogwarts champion, how about we go somewhere more private for a small talk," she said as she took hold of his shoulder and marched him towards a small closet.

_'Sorry Cedric, better you than Fleur. I'll make it up to you when I can.'_

Harry felt said witch shift beside him.

"Um,  _Pardon_ ," came the voice of the beautiful woman beside him. Looking down, he noticed that his hand was still on her shoulder, lightly touching the wisps of her silken silver tresses. Immediately, Harry removed his hand.

Thankfully, Fleur did not seem to be bothered too much by the physical contact, so he sat down and relaxed on the chair, content merely to be beside her. He once again grabbed his wand cleaning kit and started to treat the wand until it was polished to a mirror sheen.

Eventually, the doors opened once more to allow entry to heads of the three schools: Albus Dumbledore for Hogwarts, Madame Maxime for Beauxbatons, and Igor Karkaroff for Durmstrang. Behind them, the short figure of Garrick Ollivander, Britain's foremost wandmaker. It was as Harry suspected, they would need to bring Ollivander in order to judge the champions' wands.

Karkaroff immediately went to stand beside Krum, Madame Maxime on the other hand looked at Fleur, and then to him. She seemed unsure whether or not to interfere. Harry was thankful for this, that gave him even more time to be closer to Fleur.

Dumbledore on the other hand went to the cupboard where Rita Skeeter and Cedric Diggory disappeared to, eventually returning with the perturbed Hogwarts Champion in tow, a frustrated Rita Skeeter following closely behind. The door opened once again to allow entry to Mr. Crouch. All judges were now assembled inside the classroom.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, making his way to the judge's table. "He is the chief wandmaker in the British Isles and will be examining your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Ollivander took a small smile to the champions and a bow to the judges, then started looked over at the Fleur. Harry noticed that his eyes did not glaze over when he gazed upon her.

" _Mademoiselle_  Delacour, could we have a look at your wand first, please?" asked Ollivander.

Fleur left the seat beside him and swept over to Ollivander and offered him her ornate wand.

"Hmmm…?" he said

He twirled the wand between his long fingers. As he did so, Harry began to notice just how decorated Fleur's wand was. Unlike his own wand, there were engravings, including a couple small Fleur-de-Lis on the handle. Said handle was also carved with a small arch. The wand proper was also decorated with what looked to some sort of flower. It was a beautiful wand, truly suited to its owner.

Ollivander kept inspecting it, emitting a number of pink and gold sparks, then held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"A single 'air for ze 'ead of a veela," declared Fleur proudly. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

' _So, she's not a full Veela. Huh, I've never heard of a quarter-Veela before, they must be rare.'_

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used Veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…"

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, checking for scratches or bumps; then muttered, " **Orchideous!** " and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Ver well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handling them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Harry saw Fleur go back to her seat, happily noticing that she did not pick a seat further apart from him, though he did catch a slightly angry look in her face. Harry thought that maybe she had taken offence to Ollivander's appraisal of her wand, probably because of the side comment of her heritage.

"So, you have your grandmother's hair as a wand core. I've never heard of something like that before," he commented, grabbing Fleur's attention. "Though I have to say, it does sound quite beautiful," he added.

" _Oui_ , my grandmuzzer gave offered 'er 'air after none of ze wand cores in ze store worked for me," she said, then a beautiful smile touched formed in her face. "Every time I use eet, I feel  _grand-m_ _ère_  ees wiz me."

"I didn't know you were only part-Veela, when I see the reactions you get from the male population I imagined you were a full Veela, your grandmother must be very powerful," said Harry.

Fleur's face contorted, first into confusion, the into realization, followed by a smile, and then… she let out the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. Harry glanced over at the rest of the room and saw that the attention was turning on them, causing Fleur to control herself, but was still letting out quite giggles as she looked at him.

"What is it? I'm sorry if I offended you. I just don't know anything about male and female Veela," said Harry, waiting for Fleur to calm herself.

"'Arry," she whispered, making Harry ponder just how beautifully she butchered his name, "zere ees no such zing as part Veela, zere ees also no such zing as a male Veela. Veela are Veela. Eef a Veela 'as a daughter, zen she ees also Veela, eef she 'as a boy, zen the boy ees a wizard. Boys born from Veela are known to be vairy 'andsome. I am  _not_  part Veela, I  _am_  Veela," she revealed, her eyes still looking at him with amusement, making Harry give her a bashful smile.

"Sorry, I don't really know that much about the Wizarding World, I was raised by my godfather and he wanted to raise me away from the magical societies until I entered Hogwarts," said Harry.

Fleur gave him a questioning look.

"You mean you did know about 'ow famous you are? We know about you even in France, my seestair Gabrielle knows all about you" she said, prompting Harry to shake his head. Tucking away the knowledge of her sister for future use.

"Not really, it was a shock when I first arrived at Diagon Alley. My godfather raised me the Muggle way, with movies, elementary school, football, and Muggle music. I don't really like when people look at me because of my fame, fame I did not have control over. I want to earn my own fame. For myself and for my family name," he told Fleur. The silver-haired Veela's face nodding in understanding. Harry noticed a smile slowly form in her face, her cheeks slowly tinging pink.

Harry continued to be captivated until a voice called for his attention.

"Mr. Potter!" called Mr. Ollivander.

Harry looked around the classroom and saw that everyone was staring at him and Fleur. Dumbledore's face had a small smile. Madame Maxime looked concerned. Karkaroff simply glared at him.

Confidently, Harry stood from his seat and approached Ollivander, handing him his trusty wand.

Unfortunately for him, he did not notice that when he stood up from his seat, a piece of parchment fell from the bag slung across his shoulder. Nor did he notice that Fleur picked it up. Her curiosity getting the best of her, she began to read the contents.

"Aaaah, yes," said Ollivander, his pale eyes gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember this wand. One of the best I have ever made. Holly, eleven inches, quite supple. No doubt it has served you well this past few years… in perfect condition, you have taken very good care of it," Ollivander praised, his bony fingers tracing over the wand, before giving it back to Harry.

Bagman suddenly stood up and looked over at the Dumbledore.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Of course, and then some individual shots… maybe some with only two champions," said Rita Skeeter, looking over at Harry and Fleur particularly.

The photographs took a long time. It was almost impossible for Madame Maxime to get her gigantic frame into the shot. To Harry's annoyance, the photographer was still looking at Fleur, telling her to position herself so that she gained more prominence. Rita Skeeter encouraged him, but also made it so Harry was next to her. While appreciative of being closer her, the emerald-eyed wizard could not shake over the feeling that it was being done for nefarious reasons.

After an extensive number of photographs, the Ceremony was officially over.

Mr. Crouch, Ludo Bagman, Rita Skeeter, and the photographer were the first to leave, followed by Karkaroff and Krum. Dumbledore and Cedric left after that. Madame Maxime gave one last look to Fleur, after that she left hurriedly, leaving the silver-haired beauty and Harry alone in the room. The raven-haired wizard took a quick glance at his watch and saw that there was still half an hour before lunch.

 _'I still have some time to talk to her,'_ thought Harry as he looked over at Fleur, her back turned to him.

He made his way over to her, intent on continuing their previous conversation, only to suddenly see her turn around to him, her waist long her trailing behind her. Her face, which had previously been smiling when he had spoken to her before the photograph session, was now contorted into a full glare.

Harry immediately stopped at seeing her like this, wondering what was it that had made her so mad. He thought that maybe she had been angry at the way the photographer had looked at her. Maybe she was still mad at Ollivander for the perceived insult to her Veela heritage.

Unfortunately, it seemed that she was angry because of  _him_.

" _t'es un salaud!"_  she screamed at him. Harry did not understand what she had told him but was pretty sure that it was in no way flattering.

"Did you zink I was a fool?! Zat I would not notice?!" she continued, her blue eyes now devoid of all warmth and replaced with an icy coldness.

"What is it Fleur, I don't understa-"

"Do not call me by my name!" she hissed. Her hand shot up to his face, and then he finally saw the reason for her anger. Clenched between her fingers was a fine piece of parchment.

At first Harry did not know what it was, but suddenly, upon closer inspection he began to realize. His eyes widened as he recognized the parchment.

"I zought you might be different, zat you were not like ze rest of zem. How wrong I was, I should 'ave known zat you were ze same!" she cried. Harry noticed that her voice was cracking emotionally, her eyes seemed to be getting glassier with liquid.

"You don't understand Fleur, I was going to get rid of it. I-"

"Shut up, shut up!" she continued, "I do not want to 'ear your lies. I nevair want to see you again. Nevair speak to me again. Ze next time zere is an explosion, just leave me alone. Even eef it leaves me scarred and ugly. Maybe zen, you and ze ozzer men will no longer be interested!"

With that, she started to storm away from the classroom. Harry made a final desperate attempt to catch her. He gently grabbed her hands before she managed to reach the door.

"Wait I'm sorry, I did not mean to-"

The he saw it. He saw the twin raw red marks that circled around both of her wrists. It did not look like a cut, rather it looked like something been placed on the base of both her hands tightly for a long time. It almost looked like they had been tied together for a few hours.

 _It can't be_.

His eyes wandered to her own, and he saw something other than anger. In those blue orbs, he perceived what he thought was plainly fear, followed by humiliation and embarrassment. Her face went a violent red as she snatched back her hands from his grasp. Harry made no attempt to stop her. Nor did he attempt to stop her again as she quickly left the room.

He could not believe what had happened. Everything was going far better than he expected, she was finally opening up to him, they had a potential date. She had even started calling him by his name.

And his desires had destroyed that.

"I have majorly fucked this up," his voice echoed in the lonely classroom.

**AN: There it is, the fifth chapter, *whistles quietly as the audience pick up their torches and pitchforks***

**I told you it would go a lot differently than you thought. Don't worry, they'll get back on good terms soon.**

**Let me tell you some advice if you ever want to write, the challenge is not the descriptions as I initially thought, the real challenge of writing comes in making up the dialogue and character interactions. This was probably the reason why this chapter took a lot longer to write than the previous ones. You end up rewriting a lot. If you read "The Half-Blood Romantic" by Sophprosyne and compare it to this, you'll know what I mean, his prose makes mine read like ass. It's a lot harder than it looks at first glance.**

**I hope it becomes clear that Harry is in no way a ladies' man, he is an inexperienced teen who is just having his first real love. One that he fantasizes about often, but it is still a brand-new experience for him. It was pretty fun to write actually. Also, I really needed to get Fleur's accent down in this one. Reading HP/FD stories, there seems to be two camps writers fall into: the pro and anti French accent. I am very much a pro Fleur accent guy, in my opinion it is not only adds quite a bit of flair to the dialogue, but also makes Fleur even sexier to read.**

**This is the chapter that finally has Harry and Fleur engaging in dialogue. Not that it ended well for Harry, he let his desires blind him and now the woman he has wanted to engage in a relationship with will no longer look at him in the same light. What circumstances will drive them together you may ask? Hopefully it will be answered in the next chapters. Again, no promises.**

**Also, some Remus and Sirius interactions.**

**I really want to speed up the writing, it took me over 40k words to get the main character's love interest to engage in dialogue. I hope to cut down on the minutiae from now on.**

**Song recommendation for the chapter is "The Dark Side of my Heart" by German metal legends Accept from their 2014 album "Blind Rage". One of my favorite bands of all time, especially their "Restless and Wild" and "Balls to the Wall" albums. Their new material is amazing though, even without Udo Dirkschneider.**

**Don't forget to leave your review. Give me your criticisms, or PM me. Also, I have begun to answer questions through PM, so if you are a Guest reviewer, I can't really do it. I will try and answer in a single AN paragraph, but at the same time, I don't want to have a wall of blacktext to answer all the questions, sorry.**

**I don't really know when I'll be able to update next, it has been pretty hectic these days with my social service. Hopefully I do not take more than three weeks to write the next chapter.**

**Until next time**

**The Metal Sage**


	7. Crazy

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Still on the lookout for a beta if anyone's interested. Send me a PM if you want to do it. I'm still new to writing on , so I need to know exactly how to send stories to beta readers and all that.**

**Special thanks go to Smutley Do-Wrong and HNZ who have helped with the grammar mistakes, as well as giving me tips on characterization, also thanks to Dark Lord Potter Black for helping me in correctly writing dialogue.**

**My previous chapters have been rewritten (That's the reason why this chapter took so long), so check them out if you wish and give me your thoughts. More importantly, the contract has been completely retconned. It is not a magically binding contract, just a standard BDSM contract that Harry took from one of the magazines and wrote to fantasize about what could happen.**

**The other reason this chapter took so long to get published is because unlike the previous ones, I decided to sit on this one for a few days, then came back and saw what I'm doing and how it affects my long-term plans for this story and see if I can make some changes.**

**This is also the longest chapter to date, even more than chapter IV. 19k+ words in total, almost 20k. Enough material for almost two chapters if I keep my minimum 10k+ per chapter standards. Hope it was worth the extra waiting time.**

**One clarification on Harry's preference on women: he doesn't like haughty and cold ones because he likes being belittled. He likes them because they pose a challenge. Dominating the frigid or haughty ones are simply more amusing to him than say… Ginny. More on that later, especially when he starts to realize why he feels that way about women.**

**One of my common grammar mistakes is to replace "He" for "She" or "Him" for "Her" and vice versa. I found some of the errors and already corrected them, but if you find any more, please tell me so that I might correct them in future updates. Like I said before, if I have any beta volunteers, please hit me with a PM.**

"Dialogue"

_Thoughts_

" _Foreign language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter VI: Crazy**

" **Expelliarmus!"** shouted the musical yet fierce voice of Fleur, her wand pointing at the final of her three contestants she had gone up against in less than five minutes. She had pounded her opponent with such uncharacteristic savagery that she had ignored the usual strategic approach she had to dueling, favoring instead to use pure strength, knowledge, and willpower to subdue her challengers.

Clemence's wand shot from her hand, and flew behind her, landing amidst the other, defeated opponents. Her wand gone from her hand, she immediately raised her hands to offer her surrender to her school's Champion, who was panting slightly.

" _Who's next?"_ demanded Fleur, quickly recovering herself, appearing like almost she hadn't just defeated six contestants in a row. Nobody in the room seemed eager to take up the challenge, even some of the cockier male students – usually eager to try and show up and impress the silver haired girl – did not step forward to take Fleur's challenge.

Madame Maxime, however, decided to intervene.

" _Fleur, that's enough,"_ she commanded to her student.

" _I can still go further Madame, I am not tired yet,"_ responded Fleur, but her exhausted tone told otherwise.

" _I know you can Fleur, but it is for the best if you take a rest. You must be in top condition for the tasks, and I do not wish for you to have a case of magical exhaustion that might jeopardize your life,"_ chided Madame Maxime, concern for Fleur evident in her voice.

Fleur looked at her headmistress as if she wanted to argue further, but upon seeing the giantess' face, she knew there would be no set of words that would convince her otherwise. She took a survey of her fellow students, noticing that they did look pretty tired.

Despite this, she wanted to continue. She wanted to see if spending herself physically would allow her to ignore the emotional turmoil that she had been going through ever since she had last seen that…  _man_.

" _She's right Fleur, you must take your rest. There is no point in continuing, you are the clearly the best among us all,"_ said Clemence, who had just picked up her wand and returned to her best friend's side.

Fleur sighed, knowing that brown-haired girl was completely right. The last thing she wanted right now, however, is to think. To be forced to ponder on the events that had happened earlier in the day. Quite frankly, she wanted a case of magical exhaustion right now, even if it meant that she would not be on top shape for the first task.

Even so, she smiled slightly at her friend.

" _You're right, it's just me being me,"_  responded Fleur as she holstered her wand.

" _We'll practice again tomorrow, but you have to take all three of us at the same time. Just to give us a chance,"_ said Clemence cheekily.

" _You're on,"_ respondedFleur, a forced smile on her face.

The entire gathering started to go back to their respective rooms for the night. Clemence, Amelie, and Monique were the last to go after saying their goodbyes to their friend.

With a sigh, the young Veela made her way to her own chambers for the night.

Fleur stepped into her room, immediately seeking her queen-sized bed. After the day's events, she was now completely exhausted. She wasn't tired physically mind you, being that she was in top shape thanks to her daily exercises and magical training, but she definitely was worn out emotionally. She had hoped that being exhausted physically would be better than what she felt right now.

She was already used to this feeling, she had been used to it ever since that fateful day that she had completed her transformation into maturity. The feeling of being lusted after, left her feeling like dirt every day. This one would just be another day, even if the person that was causing it was someone she had been having hopeful thoughts about. It was just another time it would happen… but it seemed worse this time.

It was worse because, try as she might – and she was trying  _very_  hard – she could not stop herself from being utterly aroused at what had transpired less than four hours ago. Her excitement made her feel like absolute garbage. How could it not?

' _How could he?'_

Fleur tried to stop of the green-eyed young man, yet the thoughts still rebelled against her will and brought her back to the memories of the events that had taken place during the ceremony. Without even thinking, her hand reached once again to the inside of her uniform, to where a piece of parchment lay.

In her humiliation, she had forgotten that she had taken the thing with her. Despite her embarrassment at what lay written inside, she did not do what any rational person would do and burn it away instantly. Instead, she kept it within her clothes.

She read it once again. It did not even seem to be magically binding, just some written agreement between two people. It even stated that it would terminate the day after the projected ending of the Tournament, so it was not meant for life.

The embarrassment was just too much at that moment, however. She had completely lost it the moment she had seen it, anger covered her desires at that point, but the shame came back when he had grabbed her hands and revealed the marks that had been the product of the previous night.

She cursed herself for her oversight. She had slept with the handcuffs tightly secured, the following day greeted her with the angry, red circles around her wrists. She had been panicked yet calmed herself when she managed to charm her uniform's sleeves to be even longer to hide the streaks.

He had seen them though, and given what lay written on the parchment, he was interested as well. Even though Fleur dreams seemed to be becoming a reality, she was so scared of admitting to herself and trusting someone with her life the way she wanted.

She will deny them and forget such things when. It will all be over after the Tournament is won.

' _It will be over soon, I just have to endure this for… half a year. Half a year until he can disappear from my life forever'_ she thought as she undressed and placed her sleeping clothes on, then went to her comfortable bed, closed her eyes and was claimed by a deep slumber.

Yet her sleep did not bring her any peace of mind if her dreams were any indication, unless if peace of mind meant unwanted arousal.

Beyond the haze of the usual escapades, a picture came into view. She could see herself of course, and more importantly could  _feel_  herself. The air that passed through her heavily exposed body, or at least, exposed by her standards. She, who had never worn anything that might further entice men since her transformation.

The picture became clearer and clearer… and as it did, it became more and more scandalous.

She felt her body weight on her legs, which were also splayed open to the sides. Fleur realized that she was kneeling – and rather suggestively at that, with her womanhood exposed, or it would be exposed if she didn't have the flimsy clothing that protected her body from unwanted eyes.

The next thing that she noticed was her arms, or rather, the lack of her arms. The reason being that she felt them secured tightly behind her back with what felt like metal restraints. These ones meant far more effective than light blue handcuffs she secretly kept, the metal felt wider, sturdier. They were not meant to be taken lightly.

As her vision became clearer, so did her predicament start to become more visible. Starting first and foremost with what could barely be described as clothes.

Clothes were meant to protect the body from the elements around them, to disguise the wearer's body from the prying eyes of others. Fleur herself was used to wearing very restrictive clothing in public spaces, a method to try and prevent people from doing things they would come to regret. What she was wearing were not clothes in her view, it was an outfit – a very revealing outfit at that.

She had seen one similar before in one of her father's favorite muggle movies. She did not remember the name but did remember that it involved space, a rebellion, and swords made out of lights. The one image she did recall from her childhood memory was of one of the main characters being forced to wear something that resembled a gold bikini.

She had seen her friends wear the similar skimpy bathing suit. She herself had bought one but never used it outside of her family's private beach at Château Delacour, and even then, her mother cautioned her to use the more modest one-piece suit in order to not attract attention. While she laughed with her friends while sitting in the sand, she envied them internally. The way they could go to a public beach and wander around freely with such scandalous suits. The way they could wander about town with clothes that did not cover their arms, legs, and closed all the way to their neck. Fleur wished she could do things like that, but she knew she couldn't. The most revealing set of clothes she ever wore in public was her school uniform for Hecate's sake!

In her dream however, none of that mattered, the outfit in question was something no Veela could ever allow themselves to be seen in aside from their carefully selected partners.

The outfit was not a bikini, but it was very similar, it was decorated by was her color, a pale, light blue. The material felt soft and expensive. The rest of her body was completely bare, the valley of her breasts exposed, her perfectly formed stomach was naked to the eye. Her long legs stripped of any garments.

The only thing that she could feel aside from her flimsy garments were the manacles that bound her arms behind her back, an identical set of metal cuffs on both her ankles, and… a similar cool feeling that encircled her neck. Not so tight that it affected her heavy breathing, but enough to make its presence known.

A long, glinting chain trailed from her neck all the way to a figure that was sitting in front of her. At first, Fleur did not notice any distinguishing characteristics about the figure other than it had a male physique. As the dream began to focus however, there was something added that she would recognize immediately.

The figure had penetrating, green eyes.

He seemed to be occupied with a book of some sort in his other hands, not paying attention to the bound girl that was kneeling in front of him. Fleur wanted to do something, all instincts would tell her to get up and run away. Deep down however, the excitement made her stay. She had not been permitted to move, and she needed to stay put until she was told otherwise.

Minutes flew by, the figure's green emeralds occupied with the text in front of him. That was until he set it down on the table. His gaze penetrated hers, and she found herself unable to even move a muscle. Anticipation brewed within her, waiting to see what the presence would do to her defenseless form.

His hand slowly pulled on the leash, the chain straightening until there was no slack and it tugged on her neck. No words needed to be spoken, she knew what was being implied.

Slowly, the French witch rose from her kneeling position, noticing that her the cuffs around her ankles were also loosely unified by another chain, effectively binding her bare feet together. This one had more give than the one that restrained her hands, it was enough to allow her to stand up without much trouble yet would prevent her from giving the long strides her legs were capable of.

Not used to wearing such restraining devices, Fleur started to shuffle carefully towards the figure. With her wand nowhere in sight and her hands utterly useless, she knew that she was completely at the mercy of the man holding the leash.

The man himself began to show other features, his hair was messy, and a deep black color. He was light skinned, yet still of a darker tone in contrast to her paler tone.

Once she had reached him, his hand tugged on the leash again, forcing her to stumble slightly. The man immediately seized, preventing her fall and guided the French girl to sit down on his lap. Fleur immediately went red at the intimate contact, fully aware of her near nakedness, so much that she had to avert her sapphire gaze from the figure and look to the black pool that was the rest of her dream. She did notice however, that the green-eyed man's hands started to move towards her.

Fleur tensed almost immediately, her mind going back to that horrible memory of being involuntarily manhandled. She expected that with her current attire, and the fact that she was completely helpless, the figure would immediately descend upon her with wild abandon, perverting her form roughly to satisfy only himself.

The hands instead went to her face. Gently, it caressed her cheek, the other hand trailing her long silver tresses, his mouth inched closer so that his lips pecked her bare shoulder lightly. The hand on her cheek slowly guided her to look back upon the eyes of the man that had her in his control. Fleur felt a calming warmth wash upon her as she looked once again at the figure. The hand that was touching her long hair now held the small of her back securely, the other palm was still touching her chin softly, one thumb stroking away a terrified tear that was trailing down her cheekbones.

Fleur finally gave in.

She felt her head fall into the crook of his neck, pleasure coursing all through her as the figure held her in his control, yet never once abusing her powerless form. She allowed him to do anything at that moment, the hand on her cheeks started to trace lower, down the back of her neck, slowly switching to the front, dangerously close to her bosom. She waited, her submission the only approval that he needed to inch his fingers closer and closer, and then…

Then she woke up, her body gasping as she sat straight on her bed. Thick rivulets of sweat were slowly trickling down her body, soaking on her rich sheets. All around her the bed was clearly drenched in her bodily excretions. To any watching the scene it would be enough to make them feel worried for the French witch. Like some night terror had come in the night and scared the usually composed young woman.

Yet, despite the abnormal amounts of perspiration that saturated the soft sheets around her, that is not what greatly disturbed Fleur.

What disturbed her so was the even more damp looking area that covered her crotch, the wet clothes that covered her sacred womanhood looked like it had been recently and thoroughly soaked in water. Fleur could only look on in shameful horror as she felt her arousal spike, still heard in the involuntary moans alongside her quick breaths.

After what felt forever, she shuffled from her bed and supported herself on wobbly legs as she made her way to her bathroom, the humidly cold Scottish weather that wafted its way even into her room making her skin frigid and clammy.

She quickly filled her bath tub in scalding hot water until only her head remained exposed. She had never been truly bothered by the heat, mostly thanks to her heritage, who preferred the warmer temperatures as opposed to their ethnic rivals: the merfolk, who were fonder of the cold water.

The pale-haired young woman closed her eyes in satisfaction as she lay unmoving for what felt like hours, yet despite the steaming liquid around her, it's warmth could not hope to match the one that she had felt in her nighttime fantasies.

Frustrated, she noticed that the ache in her womanhood once again began to call again. She did not want to touch it, she didn't want to give her primal self the satisfaction of letting it know she felt this way.

Thoughts of being bound and helpless. Desires of being controlled by another. She had grown up with the insistence that such things were dangerous. That young Veela were historically preyed upon by lesser men to take them by force. Still, that did nothing to quench just how much her mind calmed when she thought of giving in to the figure. The figure she could trust to not take advantage of her.

She tried to rationalize with herself to stop thinking of such, that she should not be imagining such things. It did little to soothe the pulsating need at her core.

' _What kind of dirty girl gets excited by things like that?'_ Fleur questioned herself.

Yet even before she gave in to her frustrations and snaked her hand to her love box, she already knew the answer to her self-imposed query. Moaning as her fingers once again satisfied her treacherous body, she came to a realization she didn't want to admit to herself. A truth she denied to herself.

That's because if she didn't, it would be like plunging into a deep abyss she could never come back from. Yet, as Fleur found out while she orgasmed once again to her perverted fantasies, you really can lie to everyone but not to yourself.

' _Me… I am that kind of dirty girl.'_

* * *

Harry Potter-Black decided that Roger Davies had a very punchable face.

He had previously known that the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain was extremely arrogant, the kind of bloke that thought himself Merlin's gift to young witches, but it had been bearable before. Now seeing that brown-haired asshole trying to woo an unimpressed Fleur made him want to go immediately over to him and sock him with the meanest hook he had learned at the dojo.

Sighing, he got up and started to make his way to his classes. There was no point in staying, he had completely destroyed any chance of getting close to Fleur now. He knew she was not giving Roger even the beginnings of a chance, so he didn't have to worry about that, but he was still jealous of the fact that the Ravenclaw git was able to get close enough to talk to her, something that Harry did not even consider trying after the encounter two days ago.

Thinking back, there was one thing – beyond the obvious disaster that had ensued – that made his mind wander into territories of impossible fantasies. The red marks around the lily-white skin of her wrists. Harry did not know how she got those marks, but the way she had blushed when he saw them made him think on possibilities that he had otherwise not contemplated before. Mainly because of their impossibility.

There was simply no way that it was what he thought it was. It was just too much of a coincidence. He had seen the women in the magazines, but his mind thought they were either being paid for it or they were just way too submissive in their regular lives.

The thoughts plagued him as he left the Great Hall, noticing that it was much more crowded than it was in the previous days. The wounded students were now coming back day after day, recovered from the injuries that they had sustained for taking the mocking badges. That was another piece of bad news for Harry, he had quite liked the fact that he did not have to deal with the usual scum, especially from Slytherin.

Looking at them, he did see that the ones who had come back were rather subdued, they had been beat down pretty hard. In just a few days most of their house were hospitalized, their chances for winning the House Cup were ruined, and to top it all off the Durmstrang delegation were taking their meals at the Gryffindor table rather than with the silver and green clad students.

Still, the lack of the smug look on Draco Malfoy and his idiotic friends was not enough to lighten him up at the moment, he simply took his things and made his to the common room in order to have time to pack his things.

Oh yes, there was one very good piece of news that he had received the previous day. It seemed that Dumbledore had "dug up" a school tradition in which the Triwizard champions were afforded their own rooms for the duration of the rest of the year. Meaning that Harry had been given the go-ahead to get his own very much needed personal space.

That bit of news was definitely the best he had received – along with the knowledge that he would be receiving private, personal lessons from his godfather and Remus Lupin – he would finally have his very own home away from home.

One thing he had never really gotten used to in Hogwarts was the fact that he had to share his sleeping quarters with the rest of the boys of his year. Ever since he remembered, Sirius had given him his own room at their house, so coming into Hogwarts to find his new sleeping arrangements was a bit of a shock to the more privately minded Potter heir. That would now be fixed, he had his own place now, to do with it as he wanted. Sirius had already offered to stop by their house in Berkshire to bring some personal belongings.

While he knew he could not bring his electronic equipment for lack of electricity – not to mention they might blow up later on thanks to magic and technology being like water and oil – he was still able to bring some of his less professional stuff. He wanted to decorate the walls with posters of his favorite band, maybe bring his often-unused acoustic guitar, which could replace his trusty electric Strat. The punching bag would be great for when he needed to exercise and let out his frustrations in a healthy manner.

Those thought kept him from drowning in self-pity as he reached his bed and started to pack his belongings in his trunk. It would be an odd look, to see a student packing like it was the end of the school term when in reality it was the beginning of November, yet Harry still continued to place all his clothes so that he could transport them to his new place.

"So, the Gryffindor dormitories are not good enough for you now, are they?" came a voice from the entrance of the room.

Harry turned around to see his Ron Weasley. The red-haired boy that had once been his friend looked angry. Even more so than he had been in the last few days. Still, he was not going to give in to his burgeoning jealousy.

"It's better for me to have some space to train. You don't want me casting spells during the morning, do you? I seem to remember you really liking your sleeping time," responding Harry, a part of him regretting the jab at the redhead's apparent laziness.

"You are a git you know that? You enter the Tournament without telling us, and now you want to hang out with everyone but us. Durmstrang, the 'Puffs, even those slimy snakes!" he spat out that last one with hatred.

' _I seem to remember that you were the one having that man-crush on Krum. I guess your jealousy just runs that deeply, doesn't it, Ron."_

"I already told you, I didn't put my name in the goblet, you fool!" Harry yelled, still angry at the Weasley's stubborn refusal to accept reality.

"How should I know if you're telling the truth? I see you now Potter, when was the last time you told me anything? When was the last time you saw fit to tell me what you were doing?"

"Potter? Are you channeling your inner Malfoy now, Ronald?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Shut up! I see how you are now. You are always buried in those books of yours, you think you are better than the rest of us. I even see that our girls are not enough for you. I always see you with Bones and that Greengrass cunt! Or do you want the Veela too?!" he yelled that last part with his now familiar jealousy.

Harry sighed. He knew that Ron was one of the first ones to be completely besotted with Fleur, and while he considered the Weasley to be in the "No Chance in Hell" category of being able to be with the French witch, he began to feel annoyed at how much he stared at her. Even now, when all his chances had been reduced to nothing, there was still the feeling of intense dislike when everyone looked at her with lust in their eyes.

Ron Weasley had always been a jealous boy. Harry knew that even the moment he had met him the first time and became more aware of it as they started to take their classes together in their first years. He was jealous of his older brothers for their accomplishments, he was jealous of Hermione because of her good grades, he was jealous of other magical families for their wealth. Most of all, he was jealous of Harry because of his fame, family, and the Potter fortune that awaited him when he took up the lordship.

Being that Harry was now not only in the process of gaining even more fame thanks to the Triwizard Tournament – not to mention that he had become acquainted with Viktor Krum, one of his heroes – there was also the fact that there were already rumors floating around about the Potter heir and the French Veela being together after he had protected her.

All of this combined was making Ron's already jealous predisposition even worse than before.

"Believe what you want to believe then, Ron. I won't try to convince you otherwise, I don't care what you think about my new friendships, and I don't think you should be calling Daphne a cunt when you are acting even worse than she is."

Ron simply huffed and then went back down to the common room proper.

Harry let out a grunt, before continuing to pack everything. Once he did though he called out a name.

"Dobby!"

A crack signaled the appearance of the enthusiastic elf that had been more than happy to serve under him after he had been freed from the Malfoy family.

"Dobby heard your call, Harry Potter sir! What can Dobby do to help the great Harry Potter, sir?!"

Harry smiled at the elf. His enthusiasm had been a little hard to get used to at first, but there was not denying that Dobby was just about the best helper someone could ask for.

"Do you remember the old room I showed you yesterday, Dobby?" a nodding head was the response.

"Good, I need you to take this over there. Don't bother unpacking it. I will take care of that myself. After that, you can go back to help out in the kitchens if you want," he told Dobby.

He did not want the childlike elf getting his mind wrecked if he saw some of the things he hid in that trunk.

The house elf of course, cried dramatically at having his preference being taken into consideration. Harry said nothing, however. He imagined that after serving the Malfoy family, even the most loyal house elf would have been grateful to leave them.

Checking his watch quickly, he saw that he had to take Charms class once again with the Hufflepuffs.

Harry smirked, it was time to tease Neville and Hannah again.

* * *

Susan Bones is an extremely kind girl. Harry doubted that he had ever met someone so predisposed to being as positive as the dark redhead in his life. There were times where she was more pensive than anything but call her name and immediately that smile would appear on her face, along with a cheerful response. It was almost unbelievable that Susan could ever muster a glare or have the mean-spiritedness to insult someone.

When he had started to talk to her for the first time just a few days ago. He thought to his dismay that the smiles and warmth that she gave off were the signs of yet another Boy-Who-Lived fangirl. Harry was completely wrong, she was that way to everyone, no matter who it was.

Harry thought that she was way to kind sometimes. There was such a thing as being too good to people, as was being currently being demonstrated as they were walking on the halls. They were walking side by side, on one end there was Harry, on the other was Susan. In the middle were both Hannah and Neville, who had finally stopped fidgeting around each other and were in deep conversation.

It had been an amazing sight to see Neville Longbottom start to come out of his insecurity. The shell that had enveloped him for so long was cracking at an incredible speed. In just a few days he was gaining enough confidence to become better at spells, not to mention he was now getting very close to the Hufflepuff blonde.

Harry was jealous. A few days ago, he was the one with all the potential to get closer to Fleur. Now, with the way it had gone, the situation had fully changed. Neville was getting to know Hannah as a friend, and Harry suspected that he very much wanted to upgrade that relationship by the end of the year.

Neville, getting a girlfriend before all the Gryffindor blokes in their year. Who would have thought?

They were walking calmly until a Ravenclaw fifth year decided to get fresh with Susan.

"Hey Sue, how are you babe," he said in a slimy tone.

Susan looked really uncomfortable. She had already met this guy before, David something. She knew what it was that she wanted, and she really did not want to give her any chance. Unfortunately, her overly kind nature did not allow her to reject the blonde boy that was before her the same way that Fleur could break a potential suitor's hope with a single glance.

Harry stood and watched as Susan tried to turn him down in the nicest way possible, but it seemed that the older Ravenclaw boy did not know how to take a hint. It got pretty bad when he started to get physical, snatching the redheads arm when she tried to turn away. He even tried to snake his fingers as close to her generous bust as possible.

Harry decided to intervene at that moment.

"Take a hint mate, she doesn't want to be your girlfriend," he stated.

The Ravenclaw just looked over at him and snorted.

"What's it to you Potter, aren't you satisfied enough with the French bird? Piss off!"

Harry gave his biggest glare and walked over to him. His height and musculature enough to intimidate the shorter boy. He recognized the Ravenclaw as being one of the students that had been let back to class, he had been wearing one of the badges.

"Alright, you keep the big-titted slag. Just remember Sue, he's already after that foreign creature," he snarled before walking away.

Susan finally let out a breath she was holding in.

"Thanks Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry took her by the shoulders so that she looked at him directly.

"There's no need to apologize, Susan. But… you need to assert yourself."

Susan just blushed and looked to a different direction.

"I know… but… you know. I really don't want to cause a fuss," she said.

Harry thought that it was cute, but there was quite a problem there. Susan needed to know her limits. He was cynical enough about the Wizarding World that he knew there were people out there that would take advantage of the heiress of the House of Bones.

Thanks to the Wizarding Worlds practices, Susan would not be able to truly inherit the title of Lady Bones without having a husband. Their male heir would be the true Lord Bones. It was an unjust system, but their world moved at a snail's pace, and so Susan – now starting to become a young woman – was not just desirable for her shapely and buxom form, but also for the political and financial power her title would entail.

It was a backwards system, but then again, so was their political system. In the coming years the young girl would have to endure the pressures of dealing with potential suitors, most of whom did not have her best intentions in mind.

Harry promised himself that he would not abandon his new friend. If she ever needed help in taking care of unwanted people, he would be there for her.

"Susan…" he said as he looked into her grey eyes, "…if you don't want to deal with them yourself, then tell me. I have no problem in dealing with dirtbags."

Susan blushed a little before nodding.

Harry and Neville took their leave. It was time for them to take Potions class. The dark-haired wizard almost cursed at the fact that he would have to deal once again with a certain professor he was scantly fond of. Especially now that the Slytherin students were once again going to be taking the classes with them. Malfoy included.

* * *

Hannah kept on looking as Harry and Neville disappeared into another corridor, letting out a small dreamy sigh.

"Neville's such a sweetheart."

Susan just smiled, thought it did not escape Hannah that she was also looking at her soon-to-be boyfriend's green-eyed companion until he also left their sight.

Smirking, Hannah decided to bring it up to the redhead.

"So… when are you going to tell him?"

Susan look back at her blond friend, scandalized. A red hue was slowly emerging from below her neck to cover her entire face. After that, she looked down on the ground in sadness.

"Hannah!"

"What? You heard him, he might as well have declared his intention to defend your honor," responded Hannah. "

"I won't. David's right, he's already after the French champion," Susan muttered. "I've also heard that he's been hanging out with Daphne Greengrass. I don't think I can compete with those two."

Hannah snorted.

"Everyone's after the French champion, and I don't think you need to worry about Ice Princess. You told me yourself that you don't think Harry is as shallow as to go for looks alone. Even then, you have that in spades!"

Susan looked at her, confused. Causing Hannah to sigh.

"Come on Sue. Have you ever looked at yourself on the mirror? When you grow up you are going to have a killer body! Don't worry about the competition. That snobby French girl will probably reject him, and Greengrass will eventually drive him away with that attitude. They have good looks, but their personality is a great turnoff. You don't have that problem," assured Hannah.

Susan sighed sadly at her friend.

"It's not that easy Hannah. You know what I will have to do if I want to continue the Bones family. Harry already has to populate two Houses. How will he deal with a third? Unfortunately, that's one of the things that I like about him, he probably won't be after the power of House Bones," revealed the redhead.

Hannah looked at her friend sadly.  _Of all the people that have that burden; why did it have to be Susan Bones?_

"It's for the best if I just forget about him. See if there are others that can be like him," continued Susan.

Hannah thought about it a little. Who could actually match Harry Potter-Black? No one in their school year for certain. She was already pinching the other good one for herself, and Cedric was already with Cho Chang. With his confidence and potential increasing, Neville will grow into a great young man in a few years. In time his pudginess will wear off and he will be very good looking. That, along with being the heir to one of the most powerful and ancient lines will make him target for other young witches. By then, she planned to thoroughly stake her claim on him.

It did make her feel a guilty. It had been so easy to imagine, she with Neville and Susan with Harry. Her best friend having a great match just like her, but now the future the redhead was portraying was one where she would end up with a great man, while her friend ended up with someone subpar. A substitute for an individual like Harry Potter.

Life was seriously unfair to Susan, Hannah realized. But she would not be deterred.

"Just think about it, Sue. Try and get him on a date on Hogsmeade. Be selfish for once!"

Susan looked to be in deep thought, before a fake smile appeared.

"I wish it could be so. I don't want to lose him as a friend. I really like him, Hannah. Not like the rest of the girls who only see his fame and wealth. I like how strong and nice he is. He keeps giving me confidence in my classes, and he isn't obsessed with these things" she said to Hannah, her hands pointing to her rapidly increasing bust.

"He could be a little less forceful though. That's why I prefer Neville over him. Aren't you a little bothered by it?" she asked.

Susan's fake smile turned genuine, a small chuckle escaping mouth.

"I really like it when he's forceful, "she said.

Hannah simply gave her a questioning look as they made their way to their next class.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass is a bitch.

After a few classes being seated close to her, that was the realization Harry had come to. Oh, she wasn't the typical pureblood bitch like Parkinson or Bulstrode either. In a way, Harry figured that Daphne would find those views and the people who spouted them to be uncouth and of lesser intelligence.

Not that Harry disagreed, but it did not take away from the fact that he suspected the violet-eyed Slytherin girl did not truly care for his approval. To her, his thoughts were probably only above the menial ponderings of a common pigeon.

No, Daphne Greengrass is a bitch on a very different level than he was used to. The kind of bitchiness that could probably be found on Muggle aristocracy as well. The kind of bitchiness that did not discriminate between blood-status, magical capability, or even race. Daphne was a complete and total bitch to each and every one of the people she met.

If Susan was one of the sweetest, most approachable people that he had ever met, then Daphne was the absolute opposite of the crimson-haired Hufflepuff. She never smiled, not even a single hint of amusement ever crossed her face. She was completely stone-cold from the moment he saw her, till the moment she left the class. While Susan was so kind that people would go as far as take advantage of her, Daphne was completely unforgiving. She would not even deign to glance at whoever talked to her unless it was Tracey. Even Blaise was not invulnerable from her disdain.

The other clear comparison was with Fleur. The French witch could certainly have her moments that some people might consider bitchy – it certainly didn't help when she criticized away with that amazingly sexy accent – but it was a far-cry from the Greengrass girl. Fleur was haughty as a defense mechanism, to keep away unwanted people from getting too close to her. A necessity due to her heritage. She did have some disdain for more the quainter aspects of the British, and was absolutely not afraid to speak her mind when she wanted to make a definitive statement on clothes, weather, décor, customs, cultural aspects…

Getting back on track, Daphne's bitchiness was the unbearable sort of bitchiness that Harry could find almost no amusement to be around. At least not when it was directed on him.

"You know Potter, sometimes I don't know whether being around you makes people more obtuse, or simply more insufferable," she said, her sneer directed at the bumbling direction of Ron Weasley, who was trying his best to do the spell instructed by Professor Moody.

It was one thing to insult the red-headed boy who had been his friend for the first years at Hogwarts. Ron  _had_  been absolutely insufferable ever since Harry's name had come out of the Goblet. It was another thing to insult him directly when he was trying to be friendly with her. He vaguely remembered just how frustrated he had felt after the initial put-down by Fleur.

Daphne let out a condescending grunt.

"More insufferable. Weasley was always stupid. Granger is still smart, for a Gryffindor that is, but she has been absolutely unbearable with that idiotic elf liberation campaign of hers."

_And I thought Fleur was in serious need of a spanking._

His mind couldn't help it. He imagined the spoiled pureblood princess laying across his lap, her arse glowing a red hue after his hand had disciplined her for daring to disrespect him. A naughty girl that was being taught a much-needed lesson.

Despite all of this, he still took his seat beside her every time there was a class with the Slytherins. That being that he really knew how to get under her skin.

"Makes sense, after all I'm hanging out with you right now."

The pureblood bitch was just endlessly amusing to banter with.

"I'm not 'hanging out' with you, Potter. You insist on being besides me on every class. I am the one who has to suffer your presence," she said, sneering.

"Right, because I know how much crave the undivided attention of Malfoy and his Death Eater Youth. I'm sure you're just anxious to hear Crabbe grunt away about the delicate intricacies of bogey eating," responded Harry.

A small laugh was the response, though it did not come from the Daphne.

"He's got you there, Daph," quipped Tracey, smirking at her increasingly annoyed best friend.

Daphne Greengrass was a bitch, but the same could not be said for the two other Slytherins.

Tracey Davis, after the initial, almost obligatory Gryffindor-Slytherin disdain, was actually quite approachable. Being half-blood, she did not have the prejudices most of her House shared. Harry found out that she actually had a bit of fascination for the Muggle world, especially with the gothic fashion that seemed to be gaining popularity in Germany.

Blaise on the other hand was a little more difficult, it took a little more time to get him to open and he never really dropped that sardonic demeanor he portrayed. Harry guessed that it was just a part of his everyday persona.

Daphne was the only one that did not seem to warm up to anyone at all. The contrast between her and Susan Bones was one of black and white.

On one hand Susan was like the perfect submissive girl. She would do everything you told her without question, like she was unable to refuse anything that was asked of her, even at her own expense. The fact that she had admitted to him that she was now getting used to being sexually harassed by even sixth and seventh year students was deeply concerning to Harry. If there was one person in all of Hogwarts that didn't deserve it, it was Susan Bones. He only hoped she managed to find a way to find someone that did not take advantage of her.

Daphne on the other hand… Harry could not even imagine that kind of attitude on a girl like her. He even tried comparing her to Hermione, but even then, the comparisons fell flat. Hermione was bossy, and sometimes overbearing. Daphne did not need to boss around, she simply insulted all around her. She had no interest in leading, because she did not wish to associate herself with anyone.

A pureblood princess indeed. He thought that if anyone would dare to lay a hand on her the way that sixth year had done to Susan, that person would quickly lose their hand.

He quickly looked as Daphne sent a small glare to Tracey. Yep, he could actually not imagine Susan ever glaring at someone.

"So how about it Daphne, should I leave so that you can go back to getting courtship proposals from Malfoy. I know that you are just scheming to get him away from Parkinson. Not that it would take too much effort," teased Harry.

The he saw Daphne flush a little red. Slowly, he was learning all of Daphne's triggers. It was so amusing to see that even Slytherin's pureblood princess could break her composure so easily, especially when one knew all the things that annoyed her.

In one sentence he had mentioned Draco Malfoy's fruitless attempts at getting her for himself – despite his relationship with Parkinson – he had mentioned her by her first name, and he had even made a slight suggestion at her attractiveness. Three things that really sent her into what he had learned the Japanese called "tsundere mode".

"Don't address me so familiarly, Potter!" she growled. "And while I despise your presence, I will admit you are not nearly as insufferable as Malfoy and his ilk. But do make an effort to not make me regret that opinion."

But Harry was just having way too much fun with her. He needed this, especially after the whole thing with Fleur went completely awry.

"You sure do have a mouth on you, princess," the casual mention of her imposed nickname making her glare even more, "did you daddy ever try to discipline you for bad manners?" he said, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

"What are you insinuating, Potter?" she glowered, the red on her cheeks now disappearing in favor of her usual pale complexity.

"You know, didn't daddy ever correct you for bad manners. There must have been at least one time when he needed the use of physical discipline."

"What?!"

Harry smiled at her before continuing.

"It must have happened more than once. You were being spoiled, so he had to take you across his lap and given your pretty bottom a good spanking," he told her.

It began on her neck and her ears. The red hue then started to spread throughout her entire face. Besides her, Tracey could not contain her laughter and had to turn away in the other direction as to not expose her break in demeanor from the rest of the students. Even Blaise – who was besides Tracey – broke into a smile of amusement at seeing the usually stoic Daphne disrupt her emotionless composure.

"Of course not, you absolute bellend!" she exclaimed, drawing the attention of the other students around her, the act causing her to blush so much that Harry thought the Weasleys would sue for copyright infringement.

"Oh, that's a shame. Of course, I could always give you that lesson. Come on princess, just lay over my lap and I can teach you how to be a respectful young girl," he said laughingly.

Daphne's only response was to sputter what he imagined was a "Shut up, Potter" before Snape entered the room and ordered everyone to stay silent.

The violet-eyed Slytherin's red complexion never left her face during the whole lesson. Similarly, Harry did not ever drop the giant grin on his.

* * *

Sirius and Remus stood waiting for the Potter heir. It had been a week since the ceremony. Harry had been busy with classes and both Sirius and Remus had been preparing the literature and the spells Harry would have to learn in order to get ready for the first task, which was just two weeks away. Similarly, they had been trying to get information on what the task would entail. They had no doubt Harry's competitors would be getting the same information from their headmasters, so they did not feel bad for breaking the rules.

' _Who am I kidding. I never give a damn about breaking the rules'_  thought Sirius.

Harry on the other hand had spent his time reading the Conjuration texts that had been supplied by McGonagall. When he was not, he was decorating his new room to his content, already it was beginning to feel more "Harry", rather than some old marriage chamber that had not been used in decades.

Imposing footsteps signaled the arrival of the Potter heir, Sirius and Remus stopped talking to each other and instead presented themselves to their new student.

"So, what are we doing here in the seventh floor? There are not that many unused classrooms compared to the fifth of sixth floors."

Sirius merely grinned. His godson is going to get his Christmas present early.

"Maybe, but there is one room in particular that we are going to be using from now on. There will be no interruption, almost nobody knows of its existence and even less know where it is," revealed Sirius dramatically, causing Remus to shake his head in amusement.

"So… where is this miracle room of miracles, Padfoot?" questioned Harry.

As a response, Sirius merely stepped aside the wall and revealed the spectacle to Harry.

The wall slowly started to change, first in it's appearance and even it's color. Slowly a familiar form started to take replace the gray wall, until a heavy, dark brown wooden door had completely replaced the center.

"Introducing… the Room of Requirement," said Sirius.

Harry was momentarily stunned for a moment, even after three years of being in Hogwarts, he had yet to see a room appearing in the middle of a wall. He was even more impressed when they opened the door and revealed the features that this particular room had. It would be perfect for their training.

"Right, so let's get started. I think that we first need to get acquainted with more offensive spells," said Remus.

Harry looked at the werewolf, confused.

"I don't think any of the tasks will involve dueling."

"No, but we don't yet know what those tasks will entail. Dueling will help you think fast on your feet and also to train you in the case of unforeseen circumstances," justified Remus.

The Potter heir frowned at the answer.

"Unforeseen circumstances?"

It was Sirius who answered this time

"Yes… Harry, there is no avoiding anymore. You  _are_  being targeted, and eventually you will have to learn how to defend yourself properly," said his godfather.

Harry thought about it. On one hand there was no hiding it now, any normalcy that may have been in his life was now destroyed because of circumstances that he had been unable to change ever since he had been an infant. On the other hand, the truth was out. He would finally be in the know of what was happening around him. He would be considered a part of the fight, whatever Molly Weasley said be damned. He will finally be treated like a grown up like he had always wanted to be.

"Well then… let's begin" said Harry as determination filled his very core.

They spent the next few hours drilling into him not only how to cast the spells he new in a faster way, but also several strategies for defeating his opponents. He was apparently a natural at dueling, thinking fast on his feet in order come up with ways to counter and fight efficiently at a moment's notice. Personally, Harry thought he owed it thanks to his martial arts training.

Then there were the new, useful spells that they taught him. While he already knew the Disarming Charm. There were others that would surely be useful later on. They focused heavily on the Stunning Charm, which was supposed to be taught to sixth year students.

One spell that Sirius noticed that interested his godson in particular was a Conjuration spell. The Restraining spell. The Black Lord chuckled a little. He knew enough about his godson to know why he was keen on that particular one.

At the end of the lesson, everyone was tired of the constant use of magic. They sat down and tried to regain their strength, Harry was already breathing heavily. Dueling was an exhausting affair, it not only drained you magically but also physically and mentally, with the constant use of spells, movement and quick thinking.

"I'm going to the kitchens, see if they can spare something for us," said Remus as he stood up with some difficulty and made his way out of the door, leaving Sirius and Harry all by themselves.

"So, how have you been cub?" questioned Sirius as he placed a fatherly arm around his tired godson.

"As well as can be expected. Little nervous about the first task. Not much to complain about. Even got my room already," responded Harry.

"What about the ladies. Got any witches you're interested in? Or are the rumors true and you've already snagged the French champion?" he asked amusedly.

As soon as he said that, he knew there was something wrong. The usual exasperated look Harry gave him was instead replaced by a deflated demeanor. It was there only a second but it was enough for him to notice.

"It's all fine. You know I don't really want to start a relationship," said Harry.

"Why not?" asked Sirius, trying still sound playful, but seriousness and concern still evident in his voice.

"You know why. Almost all the girls are vapid Boy-Who-Lived fangirls or they are after my money. The only girl that doesn't see me like that that I know of is Hermione, and she's my friend. If they don't fall into either of those categories, they hate my guts. Most of those are Slytherin girls," explained Harry.

"Come on, there has to be someone out there," said Sirius.

Harry made a small grunt, before thinking deeply about his relationships.

"Well, there's three girls I've been thinking about. One of them is completely unreachable,"

"I'm guessing that's the Beauxbatons champion?" interrupted Sirius, making Harry nod in confirmation. A sad look appearing as he did so.

"Then there's the other two. One of them is a Hufflepuff, she's very nice. I think she may be too nice, but she doesn't go googly eyed around me like some of the other girls. She's genuine," Harry said, thinking about Susan Bones.

"Sounds like a great girl, maybe you should date her. How about the other one?" asked Sirius.

"The other one's a Slytherin," he said, causing Sirius to glance at him bewilderedly.

"What?! A Slytherin?! Bloody hell Harry!"

"A Slytherin," Harry confirmed calmly. "But she's not like the other ones. She's spoiled mind you, and she's pureblood. She's a bit of a bitch, but it's great to banter with her, it's fun to get under her skin. Also, even though she's snooty, she doesn't have those prejudices the rest of her house have," he continued to explain.

"So… she's a little precious princess, isn't she? You looking to discipline her Harry?" teased his godfather. "But what about the Delacour girl. If you listen to the rumors going around, you two are already dating."

Harry's face became even more somber, his eyes were now downcast.

"I'm not sure I can have a chance at this point with her at this point. Let's just say I'm not sure we are right for each other. She's pretty, very pretty, but maybe it's not meant to be."

"So… I won't be expecting any Veela girls around the house then?"

"Sirius… I may or may have not destroyed any chances of that happening," declared Harry.

_'Ok, something definitely happened between them,'_  thought Sirius.

"What happened Harry? Does this have to do with what we talked about before you left for Hogwarts?" asked Sirius. He knew that Harry knew what they were talking about.

"Yeah," admitted Harry, his shoulders slumping. Sirius was not used to seeing Harry in such a state.

"Tell me about it," said Sirius carefully, knowing how delicate the subject was.

"We talked. It was an amazing conversation, we laughed, traded information. I even ended it with the promise of a date just like you told me to. And then… and then I screwed it up," explained Harry.

"What happened?"

"She found out. By accident. She found out about… the things I like," continued Sirius' godson.

"Did she panic?"

Harry shook his head.

"She was angry more than anything, maybe a little embarrassed. Still, she ran walked away and told me to never speak to her again," concluded Harry.

Sirius took a long breath, searching for the right words to say to his troubled charge.

"Embarrassed you say? Do you think… maybe she got a little curious?"

Harry looked back at him with an exasperated look.

"Sirius, I don't think she was. She was – "

"Angry," interrupted Sirius, "and embarrassed. She didn't panic or call you a creep. Did you ever think that she may have been running away because she was attracted to those things as well?"

"Sirius, it's not that way at all. She's a Veela, she's always getting stared at by people, both men and even some women. I approached her differently, I talked to her like a normal person, tried the best way to communicate with her. I knew that she wouldn't talk to me if I just did what others tried to do. I wanted to show her that I was not like the others. Then this information came up, I broke that trust. I made her think I was different and in the end, I was just the same. I hurt her more than anyone else has ever since she stepped into this country!"

Harry took a long breath after his little rant and looked at the ceiling. A dark cloud seemed to be forming around him. The king of weakness he never showed to anyone outside of the people that were closest to him.

"I am a terrible person," He finally sighed

Sirius frowned, sensing the distress in his godson's voice. "You are not, Harry. Your desires do not make you into a bad person."

"How can you be sure?" replied the frustrated voice of Harry. "What I want… my wishes and fantasies… how are they different from what the Death Eaters do to their victims? How exactly does this make me any different from Voldemort?!"

Sirius sighed, then grabbed Harry by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.

The subject had already been breached before, after Harry's incident with Tom Riddle's diary. The green-eyed boy could not help but notice the similarities between himself and the Hogwarts student that would one day grow up to be Lord Voldemort. The concerns became especially worrying to Harry when puberty hit him like a truck, and his fantasies of damsels-in-distress became sexual desires that he only confided on Sirius after he stumbled by accident on a dirty magazine.

Even Sirius had to admit there were some similar things between Tom Riddle and his godson. They were both ambitious, they both had a long ancestry they wanted to prove themselves towards, they were both considered prodigies for their age, they could both talk to snakes, and – if the rune incident was any indication – they were both meticulous schemers.

Despite this, Sirius knew that his godson could never become someone like Lord Voldemort, and he knew exactly why.

"You care for her."

Harry simply looked at his caretaker, confused.

"What do you mean I care for her? How do I care for her when I fantasize the way I do?" he responded.

"Tell me Harry. How do you want to treat her? Do you want to make her suffer so much that she will eventually fear you? Do you want her to watch with terrified eyes every time she looks at you, feeling the need to obey you because she is too afraid to do otherwise?" Sirius questioned his godson, looking at Harry intently.

The aforementioned wizard was pondering what his godfather had told him and tried to imagine the scenario.

He remembered the day that he activated those runes, the day that he finally noticed her, the day he started to become completely infatuated with her. He remembered the look on her face, how completely horrified she was. Back then that face was because of the situation. Did he want her to look that way at  _him_? To look upon him in horror in fear of retribution, to see the light completely leave her eyes?

No. He remembered why he started to notice her in what he now fully recognized as romantic attraction. It was when she smiled, and then when he got to really know her, he started to enjoy the other little hints about her. He was no longer bothered by the haughtiness, in fact it made her more attractive to him.

Despite all that, what he liked first and foremost was her smile. The ones that would actually reach her eyes, and how those blue pools would flare like sapphires when she laughed. To take something like that from her seemed to Harry to be a truly monstrous act.

He had done It before, when he had activated the runes. She had been happy before, only to have that joy taken from her once he had started his plan. He saw that light leave her eyes in exchange for pure horror. Even when he had saved her from the peril of his own making, that happiness was completely gone, and he was the only one to blame.

He had done it again a few days ago. They had been getting along very well, she had even laughed, and this time the laughter had been caused by  _him_. He had even scored a potential date with her. Yet – as it had happened before – he had been the one to ruin it by letting his desires get out of control.

' _If all I can ever bring her is pain, then I really don't deserve someone like that,'_ Harry thought to himself.

A warm hand brought him back to reality. Tracing it, Harry found the smiling face of his godfather looking at him.

"I don't want her to fear me. I want to make her happy," responded Harry.

"And that's the reason why you will never be like Voldemort. He would never care about those around him, only about himself. Even if those people are harmed, so long as he is satisfied, they can all suffer. I've known you for so long Harry, and I know that you could never become like him," responded Sirius.

"But, there's not chance now. I destroyed all hope I had with her

"Don't give up Harry. But you need to be more careful… if you want the kind of relationship you desire, you must understand that it is not only about you. Despite being a dominant person, you have to take into consideration your partners thoughts first and foremost," declared Sirius, before chuckling and continuing.

"Remember, it took Richard four years to get the woman he wanted. It took your father six to get your mother. You never know, there still might be a chance."

His godfather was right, as always. He had been selfish, he had thought only of himself. Maybe there was still hope. If so, he would no longer fail. He would rein in his desires, take control of himself, and take Fleur's wants into consideration before his own.

Should it be that here was no longer a chance him with her, he would not attempt to force her into anything, and when he meets a person that was right for him, he would not forget his mistakes.

"Besides, if all else fails, there's always young Ginevra!" joked Sirius who suddenly erupted into small chuckles.

Harry's gave a genuine smile.

"Sure, because I would just love to have Molly Weasley as my mother in law," the Potter heir said sourly.

Both of them started to laugh a moment before they were interrupted with a few knocks on the door.

The door opened once again to reveal Remus and Dobby, carrying lunch for them. There would be time to ponder later. He needed to train right now, there was a dangerous task ahead, and to come out on top would demand nothing less than his full commitment.

* * *

Harry spent the next few days thinking about what he had discussed with his godfather. That was not the only thing that was happening, slowly but surely the wounded students were now back completely, it was back to normal at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

That coming back to normal included one thing. Fleur Delacour was once again the center of attention in all their meals. Almost everyone was staring at there again once more. All of them except for a few. Neville was among them, who spent his time staring at Hannah Abbot. Cedric, who would rather stare at Cho Chang. There was also Krum, despite his appearance he was mentally strong enough to not be a drooling mess.

There was one other person who was now not staring at her, one that had been doing so just a week previously, and that was Harry Potter.

He had decided it was time to move on, the situation had gone back to the way it had before he had exploded those runes. Before that moment, Fleur had been a fantasy, a pretty face that he had imagined in his dreams, no more. It was time to go back to those times, when she meant little to him.

He still looked around to see the reactions though. Ron was once again barely able to maintain the food inside his mouth when he looked over to her direction. Roger Davies seemed to be intent on once again trying to score with her unsuccessfully, and Adrian Pucey – whose face was now half scarred – looked on with barely concealed lust in his expression.

One person that he did notice was not under the charms of Fleur was Draco Malfoy. Harry did not believe that such a thing was because of some hidden strength that the blonde ponce had, but rather because his unadulterated hatred of anything not of pure wizarding stock far outweighed any physical attraction he may have towards the French Veela.

No. Instead Draco Malfoy was once again trying to talk unsuccessfully to Daphne Greengrass. The violet-eyed girl was giving him no attention however, a condescending glare never left her face. But the gaze was not even focused on Malfoy, but rather straight ahead. She did not even consider Malfoy worthy of being looked at while she shot him down completely.

Harry just went back to his Conjuration book, intent on learning more of the advanced spells that lay inside the valuable texts McGonagall had been kind enough to point him towards. He could imagine how some of them will be useful in many contexts.

If he had been paying attention to Fleur Delacour as he had always done so, he would have noticed something strange. Mainly that she had come in later than expected, he would also have noticed that thanks to that small break in her routine, her usual coterie of friends had to leave rather early in order to catch a class that Fleur herself was able to not attend thanks to her status as a champion.

Yet, Harry did not. He didn't want to continue looking at her. It was better to forget than to be miserable.

The other thing that he would have noticed is that a group of older Slytherin students left away in a group just moments before Fleur did, something that was decidedly odd. Male students usually did not leave the Hall voluntarily until after the Beauxbatons champion did, hoping to get every glance possible of the beauty before she once again disappeared into the forbidden palace that was her school's carriage.

Harry Potter simply sat there for quite some time, reading the text. He did not have to worry about the upcoming Herbology lesson, it was only meant as a continuation for a special project that was supposed to take three sessions. Harry had already completed it with the help of Neville, so Professor Sprout told them they did not have to attend the next few classes. She knew fully well about Harry's busy schedule thanks to also being a Triwizard champion.

He sat there so long he did not see Krum and the rest of the Durmstrang delegation leave as well. Did not see the rest of his fellow Hogwarts students go out one by one as well.

He did not notice a very lonely Fleur Delacour leave after giving him one last glance.

* * *

Fleur was conflicted during the entire lunch period at the Hogwarts Great Hall. For one thing, she had to stay back with for some time after class in order to get some information from Madame Maxime about the Tournament. Information she knew she was not supposed to get, but she also knew that at least Karkaroff was not too keen on maintaining the rules with his champion, so she just heard what her headmistress was telling her.

Unfortunately, that meant that she had to arrive rather late in order to get some horribly oily British food, so her usual friends had to leave in order to get to class while she stayed back to force a heavy meal into her stomach. Her lonely presence made an even more tempting target for her long line of admirers that would usually be intimidated at seeing her surrounded by her squad.

She had to deal with an especially persistent one that was unfortunately in the same table that her school had chosen to sit at since they arrived. He was a tall, with dark brown hair and eyes, and had an arrogance to boot. While he parroted away the fact that he was his House's Quidditch captain for what seemed to be the seventh time that particular day, her eyes were focused on only one individual.

Harry Potter looked completely out of place when compared to the rest of the students in his house. The scarlet and gold clad witches and wizards were definitely the most boisterous in the entire Hall. It made such a stark contrast with what seemed to be a dedicated and studious young man. He also stood out when compared to the rest of his year, he seemed more mature, both physically and mentally. Another taller boy – a redhead – was also more physically mature, but it seemed that that maturity had all gone to his body and not to his mind. He could see with no small amount of disgust how food seemed to slop away from his mouth the entire time he looked at her.

She decided that Harry Potter was a much better sight than the rest of the Gryffindor students.

She did not fail to notice that the messy-haired wizard did not seem to be paying attention to her like the rest of the school was, or like she had seen him do so in the days before they spoke to each other. For a reason she did not know, she felt rather uncomfortable at that fact. She would much rather he be staring at her with his calculating gaze than the rest of the drooling masses who glanced her way lustfully.

After her little dream, she knew exactly what she wanted, or at least what her body and fantasies wanted. Unfortunately, she had decided to react so badly when she had been confronted by her desires previously by Harry. She had told him to never talk or pay attention to – and he did! She never expected it to happen, she had told the same exact words to other people and they never did. They would come again the next week and try to land a date again.

She should have expected Harry Potter-Black to be different. It seemed that he was not interested in the least bit now. Fleur felt for an instant that she was being served a dose of her own medicine. Was this how those people who she rejected without a second thought?

For once, Fleur Delacour wanted a person to look at her, and he wasn't doing so.

_I made a complete mess out of the situation. I should have left that scroll on the floor and pretended that I never saw it. Then I would never have to stop talking to him._

She wondered how it would have gone if they had gone further. Would they continue talking? Would they eventually go out together?

Would she eventually tell him about the things that she liked?

Her mind wandered at the possibilities of what could have been. There was still hope, she could always talk to him first and hope to break the ice that had formed between them. She still carried the small scroll hidden in her uniform. During her fantasies in the last few days, when she was completely taken in by her desires, she had even signed the damn thing with her name. She could not help but imagine the green-eyed wizard as her master from the dream. He already looked older than most, within a few years he would have witches around him at all moments.

Yet, that hidden part of her wanted to be his.

Sadly, she quickly finished her unappetizing meal and gave one last glance to the Gryffindor young man, hoping that he had once again looked over to her to see if he was still interested. Unfortunately, his attention seemed to be once again in that massive text in front of her.

Fleur stood up and quickly tried to make her way back to the carriage. She did not have her friends with her right now, meaning that she was more vulnerable to students that may have been trying to take advantage of her lonely self.

Unfortunately for her, that is exactly what ended up happening.

All she saw initially was a trio of Slytherin older girls. They seemed to be around her age, definitely old enough for her to know that they would be graduating soon. They seemed to be talking with one another, nothing she cared about. She did feel a little more secure when all she saw were women in that particular hall. While she was not stranger to being flirted at by women, it did happen a lot less than where the other gender was concerned.

She soon came to regret that feeling of safety when they crossed paths. Immediately – as if it had been already meticulously planned – the witches grabbed her roughly and pushed her into one of the rooms, her surprised cry apparently going unnoticed by the rest of the castle. She immediately tried to open the door again, only to find out that the Slytherin witches had already locked it from the other side.

She was about to take out her wand and try to open it but the feeling of being watched made her turn around slowly. She quickly wished she hadn't.

She calculated that about a dozen Slytherin wizards were in the room, all of them had their wands carefully trained on her. Their lustful gazes were still plastered on, but there was the unmistakable sight of cruelty that she had seen in several of the women that envied her.

She had known about the House of the Snakes. Madame Maxime had told her about the Hogwarts Houses before she had arrived. She knew about the prejudice that was rampant in Slytherin, prejudices that extended towards all magical creatures, including her own heritage.

What she saw was a dangerous combination, the overwhelming lust that she was already used to being fused with complete disregard for her existence.

Despite that, she refused to show weakness.

"What ees 'appening?!" she demanded, a glare leveled at the chuckling group.

One of them, who seemed to have a huge scar on one side of his face and his eye gone stepped forward, his wand still pointed directly at her.

"Alright Frenchie, time for you to pay your dues," he declared.

Fleur's heavy glare never left the disfigured boy. "My dues? What ees eet zat you are talking about? I do not owe you a single zing!"

"You are wrong, something that you and the rest of your species seem to have in common," said the disfigured boy, a sycophantic smile plastered on his mouth.

Fleur already had an idea of where this was going, the way the conversation was going, it was only confirming what she already knew.

"I will tell you zis one last time. Go away and open zis door or zere will be consequences," she said angrily.

"Still a bitch even now. I will tell you what will happen you whore, you will do what you and the rest of your species were born to do. You are going to get down on your knees and service your betters. Each and every wizard in this room comes from superior breeding… full magical stock, you should be thankful to be granted such an honor. It's more than you creatures deserve," he stated.

Fleur grimaced. She already knew what they were after, but to have it lain in front of her in such a crude manner was still a shock to her system. Even before she had never had her heritage insulted in such a manner before. Anger quickly began to rise in her, but she knew she had to maintain her temper. If she wanted to get out of this one intact, she needed to use her brain and not her wand. At least… not until later.

"Vairy well," she stated with a fake smile, and thus began her plan.

She walked to one of the corners of the room, slowly, where she could have a plain sight of all the wizards that had previously surrounding her, the clacking of her short-heeled shoes being the only sound that permeated the chamber. As she did so, she slowly started to let off her potent allure, making the green and silver clad boys lower their wands in favor of taking care of their… other wands.

When she had a full view of the room, she let go of all control, watching in satisfaction as the disgusting wizards lowered their wands in full awe of her breathtaking beauty. The only other times that she had done outside of her family was with Harry. She felt sickened that she had to taint such a comparatively beautiful moment with servicing the attention of such repulsive company.

Still, it started to have the effect that she wanted. The confounded looks appeared on their faces, slowly but surely their wands were quickly ignored, until none were trained on her.

That is when she struck.

She quickly went for her wand at her side, and fired two stunners in quick succession, each of them found their targets and they slumped back in unconsciousness.

It took some time for the other wizards to regain their senses, by then it was a little to late for two more of them, one of which fell down to a cutting hex, the other being once again stunned. Twelve wizards were now reduced to eight.

Madame Maxime had taught her well. She was no longer a defenseless girl.

The remaining wizards quickly raised their wands and cast their own spells. Most of them were disarming spells. Fleur imagined that they wanted to have their fun even after their comrades had fallen.

" **Protego!"** she exclaimed and a blue shield formed in front of her, safely blocking the spells thrown at her, then she made one spell none of them were expecting.

" **Altufumos!** " she yelled, watching as a deep, dark smoke shot out of her wand and enveloped her whole form, she quickly kicked off her shoes and quietly snaked her way to a different location. She emerged from the smoke slowly to cast another stunner at the closest target, watching as he also crumpled down.

Unfortunately, revealing herself also caused the seven remaining opponents to cast their wands at her, a small tripping jinx caused her to fall on her back before she could once again retreat to the darkness of the smoke.

She got up quickly and cast another shield silently, taking the quickest opportunity to throw a blasting curse to another one. The once mighty dozen had now been reduced in half.

If this were a dueling match, she would have destroyed any of the opponents that had her trapped one by one, but numbers were still not meant to be taken lightly. She realized this when the disfigured boy sent a disarming charm, causing her wand to fly off from her fingers.

Now that her wand was no longer in her hands, she tried to once again run away to the door, but the remaining wizards quickly ganged up on her. The leader of the party grabbed her from behind, locking her arms behind her in a secure grip.

"You bitch!" he spat. "You should have known better! Robert! Teach this thing a little lesson!"

A heavyset man came into view and slapped her hardly. She barely had time regain her bearings from the physical assault when she felt him grab her jacket and start to rip it off, the sounds of fabric being torn apart sent her body into high gear once again.

She instantly started to struggle once again, but did not cry out or beg, she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing the fear that she felt coursing throughout her body. She kicked around, unfortunately she had taken off her shoes to be more silent, so when her stocking clad foot made contact with one of her assailant's crotch, it did not hurt him as much as she would have wanted.

It was all she could do to not drown in despair. She did not believe she would be lucky enough to have Madame Maxime close this time around. She didn't have nobody to help her now. She had tried as best as she could to become stronger, and yet she had failed. She had failed all of them.

On the back of her mind she remembered when she was helpless the last time, how Harry had come and held her until the peril was over.

She wanted him to come again, she wanted to be held by her protector like that again. She did not wish to be held by these despicable goons.

Comparing Harry to her situation, it was like night and day. The way he had held her seemed like she placed her safety first and foremost, it had been rough and gentle at the same time. There was none of that comforting kindness now, only savage cruelty.

Her jacket done, the savage started to paw at the blouse. She started to struggle once more, momentarily using both her legs to push him away, but another took his place.

They were too focused on the girl in front of her to hear the small commotion outside of the room, or to notice the door blast open to reveal a very pissed off Harry Potter-Black.

* * *

It was some time before Harry noticed that he was the last person left in the Great Hall, the rest of the occupants having gone away for either classes or back to their House dormitories.

His eyes finally left the text and started to pick up his things in order to go back to his own room, fully intent on taking a nap now that it was fully furnished with the more basic needs. His lonely figure made its way out of the Hall and into the corridor which led to the stairways. The whole place was initially empty, if he had gone even further he knew that it would lead to the grounds where the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship were situated.

He started to think about the changes he would do to his room, including the decorations. He was bringing some of the posters from his room in Berkshire. Maybe he could even bring some more entertaining literature like his fantasy novels or comic books. There would be enough space now for all of it, especially since he was getting rid of some of the things he had brought with him.

Those things being all bondage related material he had. After the disaster that was the interaction with Fleur, he decided it was best to ignore all his desires, and instead try as best as he could to have more normal fantasies. He was failing spectacularly at that, if his interaction with Daphne had been any indication, but he was definitely trying.

Be it as it may, he was burning them over at the fireplace tonight. Just like he should have burned that contract. It was time to get rid of it all. He needed to go back to what was really important: living up to his family legacy.

He had forgotten about all that thanks to Fleur. He had also almost forgotten that he was competing in a tournament that was meant for wizards that were much more advanced than him. His desires were dangerous and distracting, he needed to move on from that. To go back to focusing on being the best, to make his father proud, to make his family proud, to let the world know that House Potter was still alive and well.

It was then that he noticed that it was not as empty as he had initially imagined. Three Slytherin girls seemed to be guarding a door to one of the unused classrooms.

Normally Harry would have paid them no mind. Just another half-baked scheme by the House of the Snakes, but the way they were guarding the door, not to mention that they seemed to be seventh-year witches made him think again.

He quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm that would help him sneak up on the older witches. It was not as good as his invisibility cloak back in his room, but it would be enough.

He quickly made his way to the trio, intent on listening to their conversation. It was only after he was meters away that he finally made sense of the cackling.

"Are you sure this was a good idea? I don't want to get caught doing this," said one of them.

"Don't worry, we'll alter her memory after it's over. Potter's whore won't remember a single thing," assured another one.

Harry's attention spiked. Who were they talking about? But a pit in his stomach started to grow ever faster as he singled out the possibilities of who it might be. Hermione had gone with Ron and the rest, so it probably wasn't her. Susan and Daphne were the next possibilities, but he didn't think they would go after Susan out of fear of her formidable aunt. Daphne was a Slytherin so he doubted they would go after one of their own.

The last witch destroyed any mystery that they were hiding.

"That French bitch is finally gonna get it! I want to see her face when they are done with her – see if she still looks down on us. I want to cut up her pretty face. Will Potter still want her after she's been completely ruined?" she said, cackling as she did so.

At that point Harry saw red. He knew exactly what they were talking about. He did not think straight at that moment, he simply drew his wand and stunned two of the witches quickly, leaving only one to interrogate.

"What are you doing in there?!" he questioned her, holding her by the robes roughly.

"W-what do you mean, Potter? There's nothing here, get out, you disgusting half-blood!" she responded, but her nervousness was enough to know she was lying.

A small scream on the other side of the door was more than enough to boil his blood once again.

He threw the witch away, quickly firing a stunner behind her back to make sure she was out of commission. He then leveled the wand to the locked door without hesitation.

" **Bombarda Maxima!** "

He watched as the spell made short work of the door, splinters of wood being the only thing left after. He stepped into the dust to be able to see what was happening inside.

If he had seen red just a few moments ago, the sight he saw was enough to set his blood boiling completely.

Around six bodies were strewn about unconscious around the chamber, the ones still standing were now harassing Fleur. The recently healed Adrian Pucey was holding her arms behind her by the elbows. Robert McClintock was in the process of ripping even more of her clothes. The Veela's jacket was already torn, he quickly noticed that her shoes were also gone.

He didn't even have time to take in more of before his body reacted on his own. He raised his wand in the direction of Robert and quickly cast a curse.

" **Diffindo!** " he snarled.

He probably could have just cast another stunner to knock out the pureblood Slytherin, but his anger caused him to yell out the cutting curse. He saw as one of the hands that were groping Fleur was suddenly lopped off, blood spurting out. Robert brought his hand in front of him, as if not believing what he was seeing, before he collapsing on the floor beside his severed hand and screamed in agony.

The other assailants immediately turned their attention to the source of the curse and sprang into action. Harry cast a stunner before any of them could bring up their wands though. He saw Adrian throw Fleur roughly to the side, seeing that a new threat had come up.

It was four against one. He quickly tried to remember what he was taught by Sirius and Remus. He also remembered the rule Master Cheng had taught him back at the dojo when fighting multiple enemies. He needed to make sure their number advantage was unavailable to them, fighting them one by one.

He pointed his wand at one of the desks, throwing it to three of Slytherins so that it knocked them down. He did not expect them to be unconscious, but it gave him enough time to stun the remaining one down.

As soon as he did though, the three others regained their bearings and started to shoot curses at him. Harry cast a strong shield, before he managed to find cover behind one of the bookcases. He tried to find a window to hit another one, but in a display of great discipline, all three were sending stunners and curses at tandem, proving a counterattack almost impossible.

They did not see however, that Fleur had once again risen from the ground, but instead of going to her wand, she was preparing something far worse for her three remaining abusers.

Harry saw it starting on her arms hands, white feathers started to appear, her hands eventually gaining a claw-like appearance. When she held one of them in front of her, a fireball the size of a grapefruit appeared. The partially transformed Veela snarled, throwing it at the back of one of Slytherins.

The fireball exploded on his back, causing the flames to spread throughout his body, he was screaming from the unexpected sensation, causing Adrian and his last remaining man to look back at the enraged Veela in terror.

Harry took the opportunity.

" **Stupefy!** " he yelled the stunner this time, watching as it connected to the unrecognizable Slytherin, knocking him out completely.

Adrian Pucey now looked like a deer caught in the headlights, where he once outnumbered his opponent, the tables had now turned. The disfigured boy tried to raise his wand towards Harry, but the dark-haired Gryffindor was a lot faster.

" **Expelliarmus!** " Harry shouted triumphantly, watching as the one-eyed Slytherin's wand flew from his hand and towards Fleur's direction. The Veela, still enraged, took the wooden instrument in her hand. Fire formed in her hands and burnt the wand into ashes in a matter of seconds.

Adrian, looked on in horror, shocked to see what had happened to his precious wand before anger once again took over him. His hand searched his robe, and he pulled out a long dagger before charging towards Harry, murderous intent in his eyes.

Big mistake.

Harry had been trained in martial arts, and that included the art of fighting an armed opponent. Adrian thrust the dagger into Harry's direction with the intent to pierce his skull. The Potter heir quickly sidestepped, grabbing the arm and holding it tightly. Quickly, he brought up his other arm with all the force he could muster up against the Slytherin's elbow.

A sickening crack was heard throughout the chamber, followed by a scream. Harry saw the white bone of his arms sticking out, blood beginning to pour out. The dagger fell immediately from his hand and collapsed with a loud clatter.

Harry was not done with him though, even as Adrian was screaming on the floor, he simply put his foot on the injured arm. He looked down on the older Slytherin with pure hatred on his eyes.

"You do  _not_ touch her!" he growled, before kicking him in the back of the head, causing the boy to slip into a relatively blissful unconscious state.

Harry did not have the time to survey the area around him though. He saw that Fleur was still in her partially transformed state. Anger and fear still evident in her eyes. He slowly walked over to her. He remembered one of Hagrid's advices when approaching magical creatures: always tread carefully.

He hated to think of Fleur as a magical creature. To him, Fleur was a person just like the rest, but there was no denying the heritage now that he saw the clawed hands and feathered arms. She was a Veela, and he was now seeing the other side of her kind. The fierce side. The side that had knocked down half of her assailants by herself.

He now saw why Fleur Delacour was chosen to represent her school for the tournament. She was a magnificent young woman.

"Fleur… it's okay… they're gone now. You're safe… you're going to be alright," he said carefully.

It seemed to working, he saw as the feathers began to recede slowly, her claws returning to the delicate fingers she usually had. The uniform was still torn, so much that he could see hints of the cream-colored brassiere she was sporting. She turned her attention away from him, making her way to where her wand lay. She slowly picked it up before walking back towards his direction.

She was completely back to normal now. Harry saw as he made her way to him, not a word was spoken as they both closed the distance between them. He then noticed that the fear and anger were gone from her eyes. She was looking at him with warmth, something that made his heart flutter uncontrollably.

They stopped when they were mere inches away from each other. Their eyes never left each other's, and they both saw very different and yet very similar things.

Harry saw the warmth, but he also saw relief, gratefulness and admiration. Tears started to pour from those sapphire orbs. She had not been crying even when she was being manhandled, but she was crying tears of joy for him.

Fleur on the other side saw the same warmth, but she also saw the strength, the determination… and the thing that she had always wanted to see from someone: honor and sincerity. She let her allure come out in full force, too tired to control it anymore.

She knew she could trust him not to harm her. Thoughts that in other circumstances would never have been admitted were now impossible to deny.

' _I can trust you… I want you… I'm yours… take care of me.'_

Harry held out his hand, in order to help stabilize and lead her out of the room, away from the scene of disaster. Fleur seemed to have other plans however. Tired from her partial transformation, she collapsed straight into his arms, her body yearning for the touch of the young man in front of her.

"Fleur!" gasped Harry as he quickly prevented her from falling down. "Fleur! Are you okay?"

Her response was to simply hold on tighter to him, unwilling to let go.

Harry cursed mentally. He needed to get her out of here immediately. He didn't know when their unconscious opponents would regain their bearings. He had to get her out immediately.

He thought of taking her towards the Beauxbatons carriage, but it was too far away. He didn't want other students to take advantage of her right now. The hospital wing was also out. It would be similarly risky to take her through so many hallways. The stairs were close by, if he could take her to the fourth floor, she would be safe in his new, private room. The only place he knew he could keep her while he searched for her headmistress.

He maneuvered her body so that he could pick her up. He opted for a bridal position, her hands were still clutching at his robe weakly. Taking one last glance at the destruction they had orchestrated, he left the classroom and made his way to the empty stairs, and to the fourth floor.

The Potter heir carried the exhausted Veela all the way to his room. He thanked his godfather once again for encouraging him in taking physically demanding extracurricular activities. Not that the older woman weighed that much – in fact, she was lighter than he initially expected – but was still heavy enough that he needed to have more strength than the average fourth year student to carry her to safety.

He also had to thank Dumbledore for giving him his own personal room, he didn't want to imagine the scene he would have caused in the Gryffindor common room if he had waltzed in with the barely conscious and half-naked Beauxbatons champion being carried bridal-style. Hermione would be scandalized, Ron would be jealous – even more so than normal – and the rest of his house would probably imagine the worst had happened.

The room in question was situated on one of the unused towers of the castle. These rooms were special, but they were no longer in use, and had not been for a long time. They were once called the "marriage quarters".

Back during a stricter era, young wizards and witches would get married early on at the insistence of their houses and families. Most of the couples were sixth and seventh years, but records show some marriages being done for couples as young as fourth year students.

In order for them to get used to their new partners, the marriage quarters were created. True to their name, they were special rooms that could easily house two or more individuals. They included a king-sized bed, a large wardrobe, a personal bathroom, and other furniture such as a couple of desks, a table surrounded by comfortable seats, and a fireplace.

To get a little privacy as well, each room was sealed by a password – one that he himself had recently programed – just like the entrance of the common rooms. He went over to the portrait, which portrayed a knight covered completely in black armor.

" **Excelsior!"** he proclaimed and watched as the knight nodded and revealed the entrance, a door was still in place, to add extra security and privacy. He really doubted that any magically raised wizard or witch would be familiar with Stan Lee.

He opened the door and made a beeline for the bed in order to lay down his beautiful burden. Going back to close the heavy wooden door with a charmed lock.

The moment he placed her on the bed though, he noticed that she immediately tensed. Even more when he locked the door.

Harry was confused for a moment, until he made the connection and cursed himself for his lack of foresight. A bed… and the events that had taken place between them, not to mention the nature of what had just happened to her not a few minutes ago. She probably thought that he would take advantage of her current state like the Slytherins had attempted to do so.

He imagined how many would fantasize about what lay before him. The object of many of his own fellow students' lust lay vulnerable, something that seemed impossible if they had seen her totally composed and assured when she was in public. Harry himself could scantly believe the vision, having seen firsthand Fleur's cavalier attitude.

It was impossible once again not to fantasize about what he could do to her, much to his disgust.

He immediately thought of the Slytherin students, and what they tried to do. He remembered what his godfather had told him. He was not like them. He was not like Tom Riddle.

He could never hurt her, no matter how much he wanted her.

"I need to go. I'll go tell your headmistress what happened," he assured her, and with that he turned around to leave. It was one of the hardest things he had to do. To have her so close, yet his morals absolutely forbade him to take advantage of the situation.

He made his way back to the door, intent on going as fast as he could to the Beauxbatons carriage. Or at least he would have, had a delicate hand not grabbed his robes.

" _Non,_ please, don't go," came the soft, accented voice of the woman behind him

Harry was momentarily startled at the demand. Thinking he must have been hearing incorrectly, or that he was hallucinating. There was no way she had told him to stay after the argument that they had the last time they had spoken.

"It's ok, this room is secure. Nobody's coming in here without the password. I won't take long, I'll be back with Madame Maxime and Madam Pomfrey before you know it."

But the clutching hand insisted for him to stay.

"Please."

Despite all his feelings and the little voice telling him to stay with the beautiful girl. Harry knew that he should not be around her any longer. Just as he was starting to let her go, to admit to himself that they would probably never share anything, this starts to happen. He should leave, he should go to the Beauxbatons headmistress so that she can take Fleur back to the carriage to receive some attention. He should start to forget about her.

But Harry decided to be weak.

Sighing, he sat down on the bed, surprised when the hand left his robe and snaked timidly to his own. He did not deter it though, interlocking his fingers with her own. They stayed a few seconds like this, he knew that she could not stay like this forever, and that he may be taking advantage of her most vulnerable self.

"I still need to tell your headmistress," he finally commented, but Fleur did not make a sound, she simply tightened her hold on his hand. He still did not see her directly, afraid that it would break the moment.

Taking out his wand, Harry figured it was time to use a small trick Remus had taught him about the  **Patronus** charm.

" **Expecto Patronum**!" he chanted, watching as a silvery ethereal glow shot out of his wand. The presence eventually molding itself into a distinguishable form.

The most noticeable thing was the wings, followed by the scales and tail. A mythical, dangerous creature. The dragon was small enough that it could fit into the room. Though Harry remembered it being a lot bigger when he had used it against all the dementors in his third year, the smaller size would help it deliver the message safely.

Beside him Fleur could only watch with wide eyes. She had heard the rumors from Madame Maxime, but it was still hard to believe that the young man holding her hand was able of such an impressive feat of magic at such a young age.

Harry recorded the intended message to Madame Maxime and Madam Pomfrey, also instructing it to go to McGonagall. Then, he watched as the small dragon unfurled its wings and flew away to find the intended receivers.

Silence reigned the room, both teenagers preferring to communicate through their joined hands. Eventually the one that ended the silent aura was Harry.

"I'm sorry," he said, gaining the attention of Fleur. "I'm truly sorry for what I did. Now I know why you were angry, and you were completely justified. Well, I'm not going to be the same as that scum. I won't be bothering you anymore, I-."

"Can I trust you?" she interrupted softly.

Harry dared to turn his face to look at her, but she was not looking at him directly. Instead staring at the wall on the other side.

"Trust me with what?" he questioned. Though a desperate part of him already knew the answer

"Trust you to not be like  _zem_ ," she answered, the last word being said with a hatred that was uncharacteristic even for her.

Harry sighed, trying to find the right words. Most people would just lie to her, try to tell a version of themselves that is not true in order to fool her. But he had already decided before that he was done telling lies, especially to her.

"I don't know. I'm not going to lie to you, I do like you, and your beauty is a part of that, I will admit that. But I also like other things about you, I like how you smile, how you laugh. I find your comments funny and I enjoy talking to you. I will not get down on my knees and proclaim undying love like the rest because I don't know if I truly love you yet. But I  _really_  want to try to see if I do, if you give this perverted, fucked up guy a chance. If you don't, I won't hold it against you, I won't get in your way. The one thing I will tell you, is that you can trust me to never want to truly hurt you,"

Before Fleur could respond a heavy knocking on the door interrupted them. It sounded angry, yet more worried than anything.

Harry felt the French witch tighten her hand around his own. He was confused at her reaction but tried to comfort her.

"Don't worry, I think it's your headmistress," he assured, then slowly let go of her hand.

He stood up and made his way to the door, taking of the lock and opening the door, his wand was still at the ready just in case it was someone unexpected.

The crouched figure of Madame Maxime was at the forefront, and immediately went in and rushed to Fleur, who was still laying on the bed. Harry heard her let out a rapid, concerned flurry of French to the girl, he was a little more concerned with the other two older witches that accompanied the giantess. Both professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were allowed in after he gave them permission.

"What did you do to her," demanded Madame Maxime, who was clutching Fleur in her arms protectively. It seemed she had taken noticed the French champion's torn uniform.

She looked angry, yet Harry knew that she was doing it purely out of concern. He was about to respond but McGonagall beat him to it.

"Maxime, while Mr. Potter can be a chronic rule-breaker, he would not stoop himself so low as to attempt to assault his fellow champion."

Madame Maxime looked like she was about to argue, but Fleur then placed her hand on her headmistress' shoulder.

" _It's true Madame, he helped me. It would have been much worse if he hadn't been there,"_  she said.

Madam Pomfrey decided that it was time to intervene.

"Madame, please, I must attend to Ms. Delacour, to see if there are any damages," she said cautiously to the giantess who was still clinging on to her student.

Madame Maxime reluctantly let go of Fleur but was still vigilant of her as the Hogwarts nurse ran some quick charms on the young French witch, asking questions as she went along.

Harry turned around to see the questioning gaze of his Head of House.

"Mr. Potter, you must explain to me what happened in detail. We saw a dozen wounded students on the way here, and I do believe you were the culprit. Explain yourself," she demanded, although the worried stare she gave towards Fleur's clothing said that she already knew the answer.

"That fucking scum, tried to assault her. She had already knocked half of them out but still they overwhelmed her, I took care of the rest. Frankly, I could give a rat's ass how wounded they are. They deserved that and more," Harry growled.

McGonagall wanted to argue, but a single glance to Fleur and then to Harry's glare dropped the issue from her mind.

After Pomfrey's inspection, she cast a quick repairing charm on Fleur's uniform. It would still have to be replaced, since it only forced the blue garments back together but the tear marks were still noticeable, but it would be enough to protect her modesty on the trek back to the carriage.

"Monsieur Potter-Black, I am deeply sorry for my accusations earlier. I am grateful, you 'ave done ze school, myself, and Fleur a great service. You should be proud of yourself," said Madame Maxime diplomatically, but the gratitude in her voice was still noticeable.

"I'm sure anyone would have done the same in my situation," Harry responded.

" _Non_ , zey wouldn't 'ave," said Fleur softly.

McGonagall on the other hand adopted her strict look.

"Mr. Potter, as Deputy Headmistress, I simply cannot ignore your misconduct. One hundred points from Gryffindor for assaulting your fellow students…"

Everyone looked like they wanted to protest, including Fleur and Maxime, but McGonagall once again raised her voice.

"… and two hundred points for protecting a foreign student and demonstrating the values that this school and the House of Godric Gryffindor was founded upon," she added with a small smile.

With that, and a final thank you from Fleur, they all left Harry's room.

The dark-haired wizard sighed tiredly, loneliness once again enveloping him. He decided that he needed a shower to take his mind of things. Part of him was admonishing himself for not taking another chance with Fleur but was quashed immediately. It was best to start forgetting about her. He needed to have his mind fully on the tournament.

Dressing for the night he made his way back to the bed. It was then that he noticed something he hadn't seen before waiting on the center of the bed. It was a small, familiar scroll. One that he thought he had all but forgotten before.

Why had Fleur given it back?

Harry shook his head. It didn't matter, he needed to do what he should have done in the first place

His hands immediately grabbed it, and he started to make his way to the fireplace so that he may burn it like he should have done so before. It was the thing that destroyed any chance he would have had with the French witch, it should be erased immediately.

Yet before he could set the piece of parchment ablaze, his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to open it once more.

There, on the line was a single signature, and it was not his. The delicate handwriting spelled only one name

_Fleur Isabelle Delacour._

Needless to say, Harry was not able to sleep that whole night.

**End**

**Song recommendation is "Crazy" by the American metal band, W.A.S.P. from their 2009 release "Babylon". I recommend not only the song and album, but W.A.S.P.'s entire discography. They're one of the best 80's bands and they are extremely underrated. Or rather, Blackie Lawless is underrated, given that he is the only original member left. They're also on my very top five, probably just below Judas Priest on being my favorite band ever.**

**One thing that I was extremely disappointed by in the novels is that Rowling seemed to have no outline on what to do with the Harry Potter character. In the early novels, there was a lot of comparisons between him and Voldemort, how similar they were and yet their nature made them into different people in the end. That seemed to be something that was completely forgotten by the sixth book, relegating the comparisons to "Harry has a piece of Voldemort in his scar", something which I thought was a complete cop-out.**

**Harry is a much more interesting character, in my opinion, when he does have those similarities with Tom Riddle (his ambition, need for dominance, overwhelming drive and strength), yet his moral compass does not allow him to do the monstrous things Voldemort did to himself and to others.**

**That's also why I'm not worried about criticism of "Harry being too powerful". That's how he should have been, in my opinion. I'm not talking godlike, but definitely above the rest of his peers in terms of magical power. The whole fight with Voldemort felt almost undeserved in the seventh book. We see Harry's determination, but was completely unbelievable when he went against a guy that was not only more powerful in terms of feats of magic but was also more experienced.**

**I hope you all liked that Fleur fantasy, I really want it to show her conflict between wanting to submit, and yet being so scared of doing so because of her experiences. Hope you all thought it was well written.**

**Aaah, the slave Leia outfit - the introduction for many of us to our perverted fantasies.**

**Now we are going for the real stuff, took me long enough, and to think I was going to start doing kinky stuff in the third chapter initially, not to mention this story was originally intended as a one-shot, I guess I do have the tendency to drag things along. Keep in mind, it won't be intense just now, it's still little awkward to do sex with Harry, seeing as he is still in fourth-year, and Fleur is still shaken by the experience. The dom/sub that will be seen during the Tournament will be more on exploration of both Harry's and Fleur's desires. Actual sex will wait until later.**

**This is the first time that I have written combat. Tell my if I did a good job or if I can improve. It has been a long time since I've taken martial arts lessons so I may be a little rusty. I hope I get better since the Naruto story I have planned in the future will likely involve quite bit of fighting. If any of you have any tips on how to write combat, I'd be happy to hear them.**

**I may end up making more spells.**

" **Altufumos" is a combination of "deep" (altum) and "smoke" (fumo). Just trying to make something like a smoke bomb.**

**I have to thank you once again for the overwhelmingly positive response I have gotten for this story despite its less than conventional sexual themes. We are now up to over 900 favorites, 182 reviews and 1,500 follows! I'm getting on the big leagues now, if this story continues to grow, it could start being on the same number of follows as some of the classic HP/FD stories, so I have to double my efforts in terms of quality.**

**If you have any doubts or suggestions, review or PM.**

**Again, if I have any volunteers to Beta read this story, send me a PM.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage**


	8. Still of the Night

**"Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Ladies and gentlemen *drum rolls* thank you so much for getting this story past the 1,200 favorites milestone! I am extremely flattered by the response this story has gotten. Especially since it was originally conceived as little bondage one-shot. We are also upwards of over 1,900 follows, and over 120,000 views!**

**I have gotten some concerns about the level of angst in the story. I don't want to make this a heavily angsty story, but it does make the eventual romantic scenes be a lot better when they have such negative emotions previously. The initial angst is gone right now, it's going to get romantic for at least the first arc of the story, at least where Harry and Fleur are concerned.**

**Shorter chapter, but it I've been extremely busy these last few days. It's getting increasingly hard to have time to write, not to mention I suffered my first case of writer's block.**

**Speaking of BDSM, we have finally arrived to what I have promised initially. Hope you like it!**

"Dialogue"

_'Thoughts'_

" _Foreign language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter VII: Still of the Night**

Harry never once let his glare fall off despite the various threats he was getting from the older witches and wizards that were also gathered in Dumbledore's office. Each of them was from pureblood families, that much he knew. It was not just that they were wearing clothes that seemed to come straight out of the seventeenth century or that they carried themselves with an entitled sense of superiority. Those things were surely present, but the reason he knew they were purebloods was because they were some of the parents of the twelve currently hospitalized Slytherins that tried to rape Fleur.

Of course, defending the indefensible acts of the older students was the patriarch of the Malfoy family: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. The very presence of the blonde-haired man almost sending Sirius into a frenzy when the group accompanied.

"Fifteen wounded wizards and witches, most of them suffering from deep unconsciousness thanks to exposure to the Stupefying Charm. Two cases of exposure to the Severing Charm, one of them with his hand severed and barely alive due to blood loss. One case of third-degree burns from an unknown source, and to top it all off, once case of a shattered arm due to physical assault. How to you respond to these accusations?" drawled Lucius Malfoy.

_'I really hate this slimy son of a bitch,'_ thought Harry but refrained from airing his thoughts to the Malfoy patriarch.

"If you add in the fact that they were in the process of assaulting Beauxbaton's champion for the Triwizard Tournament, then yes. I will admit that it was I that intervened in that moment," the Potter heir stated with thinly veiled courtesy.

At his statement, one of the witches stood up and directed her gaze towards Dumbledore.

"The Veela? Headmaster… we are not seriously taking a foreign creature's accusations seriously!" she said arrogantly.

Harry gritted his teeth behind pursed lips as the woman continued defending the indefensible.

"For all we know, it was the Veela that enticed them. I have little doubt in my mind that she was tempting our fine young children. You know how those Veela are – scarlet women all of them," she continued.

Harry saw red momentarily, thinking back on Fleur. She was anything but a scarlet woman, she never wanted the attention that was given to her. He remembered her sadness, the disgust on her face as the people that saw her only for her beauty looked on at her with barely restrained lust. To suggest that she tried to draw their attention on purpose was ludicrous.

He was about to respond but Sirius sensed his plight and put a comforting hand in his shoulder as they continued their vilification of the girl he was so attracted to. It was enough to not make him burst out, but the anger still remained.

Lucius Malfoy took the chance in order to once again air his diplomatically heinous voice.

"Whatever the case may be. It's clear that young Mr. Potter has taken violent actions against the student body of Hogwarts. It's a miracle that young Mr. McClintock's hand was able to be reattached. Mr. Acker had to be taken to St. Mungo's immediately since he was suffering from third degree burns. It's a fortunate thing that none of them are deceased currently," the elder Malfoy drawled, then looked at Harry directly with thinly veiled condescension.

"As such we demand that Mr. Potter be expelled forthwith from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to ensure the safety of the student body."

Before Harry and Sirius had the time to protest, Dumbledore once again spoke. "That is a very heavy demand Lord Malfoy. Especially when we do not have any evidence to support either claim. As it stands, we have no proof to corroborate either version of events."

"It is the least you can do, Headmaster. When we saw the state of the fine young students we immediately contacted the Minister and demanded that young Mr. Potter be arrested and put on trial," responded Lucius.

Sirius took that as his cue to stand up against his cousin's husband.

"You dare?! Harry was only defending himself and a foreign citizen, you can't arrest him for that!"

Lucius turned to look at Lord Black with a sly condescension.

"Whatever the case may have been, the Minister has been noted of the incident, you can expect a visit from the Ministry and the from the other esteemed members of the Protectionist Party soon. Until then, I hope that the last Potter doesn't get into more trouble. It wouldn't do for the final member of such an… esteemed House to get in the way of danger – more than he already has, at least."

Lucius finished the statement before turning to his companions and promptly retreated from the Headmaster's office, the rest of the purebloods following him like a gaggle of schoolgirls in a popularity contest. To Harry, the Protectionist Party seemed like an insatiable cesspool of deceit and corruption, each inbred member more hideous and repulsive than the last. He was only thankful that they were currently not the ruling party of the Magical World, but Cornelius Fudge was always more than happy to take their ill-gotten gains in exchange for legislation that benefitted only them.

"You cannot let this go, Dumbledore," Sirius voice interrupted Harry's thoughts. "They attacked my godson – my heir! It is unthinkable that they get now repercussions for what they were about to do."

Harry decided to voice his thoughts as well to the wizened wizard.

"I agree. What they were going to do to Fleur… you can't let them get away with it. I don't care how incestuously pure their blood happens to be."

Dumbledore raised his hands in an attempt to placate them. "I understand that you are frustrated by the event, but the fact remains that there is no evidence of either side being true. I believe you Harry, I do not think you have the makings of a liar. Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime take your side as well, but we are dealing with a powerful force now. Lucius Malfoy's party may be the second most powerful, but they have the most influence over the Board of Directors. They will try and block any attempts to expel fifteen Slytherin students."

"So that's it then? They get away with it? They try to sexually assault Fleur and all they get is a slap on the wrist, is that it?" growled Harry, "What happens the next time? When they try to go after her again, or any other student? Are they still protected by a bunch of bigoted assholes at the top?"

Dumbledore sighed. "No… I can't expel them from Hogwarts right now without evidence, but I can prevent them from coming back this year now that they are suspected of sexual assault. You won't have to worry about them for now."

Harry pondered the Headmaster's decision for a bit. He did not want to spend another year with the Slytherin students for sure, but it would keep Fleur from having to worry about another student attack. It was enough to satisfy Harry for the moment and he slowly nodded.

"I must also inform you that Amelia Bones has decided to take more decisive action after recent events. Don't be surprised if you see Aurors patrolling the castle from now on," continued the old Headmaster.

"Now, I must ask you to return to your room for now Mr. Potter, you are excused from your classes. Make sure that you are fed, you will need to be in your best strengths for the coming task. It is fast approaching now. Sirius, you stay. I need to discuss something with you."

Harry gave one last look towards his godfather before he too left Dumbledore's office.

Harry started to make his way back to his room, it was too late to go to the Great Hall for lunch. He figured he could get Dobby to go to the kitchens and bring him some leftovers, not that he was hungry though, an extended talk with the feces-made-flesh Lucius Malfoy was enough to destroy any appetite he may have had, but he still needed to be in his best strengths.

His best strengths not only because of the upcoming First Task but also because of the revelations made to him by an innocent looking piece of parchment that had been placed back into his possession.

When Harry entered his room he immediately reached for his bed, exhausted at having to spend the entire day at Dumbledore's office. Yet even in his tiredness, he reached out for the rolled parchment that was beside him, as if to confirm its contents once again.

_'Am I dreaming?'_ Harry thought as he contemplated Fleur's graceful signature. There was just no way that Fleur Delacour, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen would agree to such a thing.

She was extremely attractive, intelligent, witty, older, and powerful. Any male between the ages of twelve to eighty would get on their knees just to have a chance with her. She had every advantage there could possibly be over him and the rest of the student body. So why would she give herself in such a way to him?

Then there were his own feelings on the matter. Despite what his desires were, she did not know if he was truly capable of being good enough to satisfy someone who was submissive. How would he approach her? The images in the magazines never showed you that. You would bind the girl, dominate and make love to her; but what happened after when master and slave became just another couple?

He did not want Fleur to just be someone he can turn to in order to satisfy himself. After all that he had seen in her, he wanted to have something more with her, something more intimate, and he did not know how to get them to that level.

After the ceremony when he had screwed up thing with her, he was ready to move on from his desires, to burn the magazines and force himself to be like other people, to have normal fantasies. Yet just as he was on the cusp of going with his decision, his dreams – the ones that he had been having every night the silver-haired angel appeared in – somehow came true.

Harry was uncertain of what to do. How could he approach anyone with this? Despite trusting his godfather completely, he did not want to involve him so suddenly in what was supposed to be a private relationship. He had certainly been embarrassed when they had first spoken about the topic.

Harry shuddered at the memory of Sirius Black trying to tell his godson about the birds and the bees.

The Potter heir turned once again towards the magazines that had been his only guide to the world of domination and submission. Trying hard to look in order to get some wisdom from the various dominants who are featured in interviews. The information was quite bland and could not truly get knowledge that would help him with the situation.

Still, Harry soldiered on. He had been given a chance, and no true Potter would back away from a challenge.

* * *

Fleur thought that the unbearable nervousness couldn't get worse. She had slept well the previous night, despite the occurrences of what had happened, probably because of sheer exhaustion. She did not even think straight when she finally gave in and left that signed contract on Harry's bed. She had been acting completely on her emotions, on her desires.

She did not doubt it anymore. She wanted him, wanted to be his. The events of last night had broken down the final resistance she had. She had been rendered completely helpless, and he did not take advantage of the fact. He simply took her to safety, away from the things that cause her so much harm, it was enough to almost bring her to tears at the memory.

But he had not appeared during breakfast, nor for lunch. The anticipation was killing her. She wanted to lay her eyes on the wonderful young man once again. Part of her was worried about something else, she had been making inquiries on Harry throughout the day, more daring ones than the ones that she been doing previously.

She had learned more about his relationships, which had only added to her nervousness. She looked to the Gryffindor table first, she had not paid it attention at all since the only person she was interested in did not appear to be present, yet some of the people she had heard of were there.

First, she spied a person that she had been repulsed by ever since she had laid eyes on him. The redheaded boy seemed to be a vacuum for food; she had firsthand experience in the fact that he was completely vulnerable to even the tiniest fraction of her allure. Fleur did not know how such a person could be so closely associated with Harry, but the Hogwarts students had told her that Ronald Weasley was Harry's best friend.

If rumors were true, however, they had been clashing ever since the last year and were now in bad terms since Harry had been chosen as a champion.

Fleur did not feel bad about this. Ronald did not seem to be a good person in her opinion. From what she had heard the Weasley was brash, thick, and jealous of those around him. His only merits were that he was apparently a chess savant and that he had great prospects as a competitive eater if the ungodly amounts of horrible food he slopped into his gaping mouth were any indication.

If she and Harry ever became something – which she had been finding out was a thing she was hopeful of – Fleur did not think that she would ever stand to be in the presence of the Weasley for a long time.

Fleur paid attention then to another boy, a little shorter than the redhead, and pudgier. Neville Longbottom was his name. She had seen him with Harry in the past few days. He was not as impressive looking as Harry, but she knew that he had some modicum of self-control since he did not drool at the sight of her, unlike the Weasley.

_'He is yet a boy. Harry is a young man,'_ Fleur thought to herself as she compared both Weasley and Longbottom to Harry. They did not measure up, to say the least.

The source of her nervousness was not the aforementioned boys however, it was the females that she heard of.

Her eyes wandered over to a female figure that seemed to be engrossed in a giant textbook. Hermione Granger was her name, Harry's other best friend. She did not know much about this one, except that she had a reputation for being a little overbearing yet was also the second-best student in her year, just behind Harry.

Fleur rolled her eyes. Of course, Harry would be number one.

She put her a little low on the threat level. From what Fleur had heard, they were close friends and nothing more and were also currently not speaking to one another.

She quickly turned her gaze over to a younger girl. The younger sister of Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley. The rumors about her and Harry were also not concerning to her. It seemed that Ginevra had a childish crush on the Potter heir ever since she was little.

Fleur huffed smugly. A little girl. She did not know why she considered the young redhead a threat, to begin with. She doubted Harry would ever go with someone so completely vapid as to see only his fame.

It was the remaining two that did make her a little nervous.

On the Hufflepuff table, there was another redhead, this one of a darker shade, almost crimson in color. Susan Bones gave her a lot more concern than Hermione and Ginevra. In physical appearance alone, she was far more threatening, especially with that chest that she expected would be larger than hers in less than a year. The redhead was also known to be kind and extremely approachable, something concerning in Fleur's mind.

She knew that she could be just a little arrogant at times. Fleur did not know if Harry took kindly towards her attitude towards his backward country, it wasn't his fault that he was not born in a truly civilized land. She doubted Susan Bones would have that little attitude trait.

Fleur turned over slowly to see the other girl she had been told about. Disgust washed over her immediately when she saw the students clad in green and silver, her interactions with that particular Hogwarts House were not nice, to say the least. The young Veela had initially thought of them as cruel but pitiable, after last night, however, she had absolutely no pity for them.

Deep down she knew that part of the reason for Harry's absence were his actions the previous nights, but she did not care for those students. Frankly, she wanted Harry to hurt them more for what they were about to do to her.

Still, she looked on to the raven-haired girl, Daphne Greengrass.

By looks alone, she was definitely worthy of competition. If the Slytherin had had silver hair, Fleur would have believed that she was a Veela for a moment. She was taller than most of the girls, with violet eyes and flawless porcelain skin. A cold, calculative look was plastered on her face.

From the rumors she had heard, Daphne Greengrass made her look like she was the kindest woman in the world. Ice Princess, Ice Bitch, those were a couple of names that the violet-eyed girl had earned for herself.

Between Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass, Fleur actually felt jealous for the first time in her life.

_'Is this how the girls felt about me when their boyfriend would look at me?'_ Fleur questioned herself.  _'Did he lose interest after I sent him away? Will he want me now, or have I been replaced?'_

Still, she would not be deterred. She had denied this to herself long enough. She had no doubts what she wanted, and what she wanted was to be Harry's. Despite his age, he had proven himself completely. Power, control, and honor yet with hidden kindness that she had witnessed yesterday. The thoughts of him being too little or young now banished.

The air seemed to leave the Great Hall immediately as everyone's attention turned to the lonely figure of Harry Potter walking quickly to the Gryffindor table.

Fleur could not take her eyes off him, and she surprisingly did not find it at all concerning. She just wanted to talk to him – now. Still, she managed to control herself and remained seated, her suitors ignored in favor of the green-eyed young man. The young Veela watched as Harry sat down next to the Longbottom boy, the comparison between the two was amazing.

_'How could I have ever thought of him as a little boy?'_

She did not turn her gaze away when he also looked over at her. His eyes were so striking, like a sea of jade. Powerful, just like it's owner's magical prowess.

Fleur gave him a smile, small enough that he would notice it but not large enough to draw the attention of the refuse around her. Her smile was only for him, not for hormonal little boys and jealous little girls. She grew a little concerned when he didn't return it, but his aura was more of concern and indecisiveness rather than rejection.

The anticipation was killing her, so she decided to be daring now.

She stood up, all eyes on her as she made the long walk over to the Gryffindor table. She could almost feel all eyes on her as the distance between her and Harry shortened but she did not care, she was done caring. The only thing she gave importance to was to those green eyes widening as he started to realize her intentions.

Fleur reached over to where he was seating, noticing that there was enough space for her to sit down. She looked over at Harry.

"Is zis seat available?" she asked.

Harry's eyes simply widened, not in lust, but in shock. Fleur smiled, not bothering to hear his response before she sat down close beside him and quickly watched the scene around her. She saw most of the Hall looking over to them, the Gryffindor table seemed to be the most in shock, out of the corner of her eye she spotted the Weasley boy turn a noxious purple as he looked at her, then he looked over to Harry in what looked to be jealous anger.

The other Weasley, the female also looked on in jealousy, but this one she was experienced with. She was jealous of her, sitting so close to the wonderful young man she probably had a childish crush on. Instead of purple, she turned an angry red, almost as bright as her hair. Fleur just scoffed internally.

_'Don't even try it, little girl. I signed that contract. I belong to him now.'_

The Hufflepuff table did make her feel regret upon seeing Susan Bones. To her surprise, she looked at her in… desire? Despite the initial shock, Fleur was not very surprised. While she mainly got attention from males, there were quite a few females that also would look over to her with thirst in their eyes. But it was confusing, she thought that the Bones girl was attracted to Harry.

_'Does she like both?'_  Fleur wondered, remembering that the voluptuous Hufflepuff had also looked over at Harry with longing. ' _A bisexual witch? In this puritan nation? How quaint. Maybe not all the English are prudes.'_

The young Veela looked over to see the Bones girl again, noticing that the desire was gone and was instead replaced by sadness, her grey eyes looking downcast, small tears threatening to spill as the pigtailed blond tried to comfort her. Fleur felt a small pang in her chest at the sight, briefly regretting her actions; but such thoughts were quashed quickly. While she felt bad for the buxom girl, but she was not regretting her decision.

_'I am sorry, but this has always been denied to me. I need him, I want to be his. Nothing will convince me otherwise now,'_ she justified to herself.

The most difficult person to read was Daphne Greengrass. A brief pang of shock seemed to cross her otherwise ice-cold demeanor, a little jealousy was featured for just a second, before she simply looked away, attempting in vain to ignore them. It would be convincing if she didn't see her taking momentary looks at them every so often.

_'You are beautiful and from a powerful family. You could have reached out to him, but I reached first. Do you girls even know the things he likes? I like them too, I was meant to be with him. Would you call him a freak if you knew about his desires, about my desires? I know about them and will encourage him to pursue them, not shame him for what's in his nature.'_

Fleur ignored the rest. She briefly saw the Ravenclaw captain that had been bugging her look at Harry with hatred. Similar looks spread across her admirers but she quickly noticed that she also got quite a few dirty looks not, unlike the female Weasley. She was not surprised. Harry was tall, handsome, intelligent, confident, wealthy, mature, and powerful. A mighty catch to whomever he ended up with, but Fleur would beat them all.

She ignored the world to simply look at the raven-haired Gryffindor beside her.

" _Bonsoir,_ 'Arry, 'ow 'ave you been? Are you alright after yesterday? I 'ave to say once again zat I am zankful," she whispered, partly because she didn't want others to listen to their conversation, but largely because she wanted an excuse to get as close to him as possible.

Harry, on the other hand, was flabbergasted at Fleur's audacity. He had planned to talk to her privately, but now she had just waltzed all the way to him in front of the entire Hogwarts population! He didn't think she had it in her to be so careless.

"I am alright, Fleur," he whispered back, "and you don't need to thank me again. I was just doing the right thing."

Fleur answered by moving her hand below the table and grasping his own confidently.

"You know 'Arry, I remembair zat you promised  _moi_  a tour around ze castle. Are you not going to fulfill your promise?"

Harry's heart was beating extremely hard at this point. His body temperature was rising even if he did not show it like the rest of the guys that were still transfixed on seeing them interacting together, jealousy evident in the eyes of both genders.

"I thought that was off. After how that ended," he responded firmly.

"Zat zing? I was overreacting. I showed you what I wanted yesterday, did I not?

Harry made a barely noticeable gulp. "You did, but… are you sure you want this?"

Fleur squeezed his hand. "I am sure."

Harry sighed. In many ways it was exactly what he wanted, the things that he had dreamed about had somehow come true but was unsure about how to proceed with the beautiful young woman beside him.

Still, he could not deny himself. He wanted to explore the possibilities with French champion that had managed to worm her way into him so efficiently.

He grabbed her hand this time and looked dead into her eyes. Excitement gripped him as he allowed himself such intimate contact with those bright sapphires, and with all the confidence in the world, he muttered the words that promised so much more for both of them.

"Meet me after dinner, on the seventh floor."

* * *

Harry waited nervously at the unrevealed entrance to the Room of Requirement. He thought that it was the best place to hide out the most beautiful woman in the world, a place that almost no one knew about, and even less could even point towards its location. He would have all the time in the world to talk to Fleur within the secret room.

His heart started to pound ever faster as the minutes passed by, briefly wondering if she had changed her mind. Maybe he was still dreaming? After all, such things could only truly happen in his deepest and most dark fantasies, but he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that this was reality.

His thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of heels clacking on the stone floor. Nobody in the school used heels except for some of the younger teachers like Vector or Sinistra. He was already forming an excuse on his head when he was greeted by the sight of Fleur walking over to him quickly. He noticed that she smiled beautifully once she caught the sight of him, something that made his already beating heart soar. She had the most beautiful smiles.

Once they reached each other though, there was nothing but heavy silence between the two. The two of them seemingly content with only taking each other in for a few seconds, looking at each other's eyes until it was Harry that regained control of the situation and coughed lightly, shaking Fleur from her trance as well.

"Well… here we are," he said, wincing at the statement.

Fleur didn't lose her smile though. " 'Ere we are."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but before they could, the Room of Requirement made its presence known to both of them.

"Well I guess we can begin the tour here," said Harry as he opened the door to allow Fleur entry.

The long-haired young woman nodded her thanks and proceeded to enter the room, she started to take in her surroundings, noticing that the chamber resembled a heavily furnished living room. She did not know if it was because she was feeling in a good mood or because she was with Harry, but the English décor looked to be almost pleasant this day.

She waited for said messy-haired wizard to enter behind her before turning over to him.

"Well, zis ees a nice place."

Harry nodded. "It's called the Room of Requirement. I can probably count on my hand the number of people that know it's location that are currently in the castle. We won't be disturbed."

" _Très bien,"_ Fleur said with a smile.

Harry was conflicted on where to begin with the beautiful French girl in front of him, he quickly signaled to the seats.

Once both of them took seats, they finally started to talk to one another.

"So…" started Harry.

"So?" responded Fleur.

Harry gave a deep breath. "So, what's the deal exactly?"

"Ze deal?"

"Look… how about we are completely honest with each other? About each other and about…  _that_ ," the sharp intake of breath from Fleur was enough for Harry to know that she was aware of what he was referring to.

"Alright zen… you first?" she responded.

Harry nodded. "Well… when I first saw you, I thought you were pretty, but I wasn't attracted to you the way the others were. When I saw the way, you acted I was turned away almost immediately. I'm sorry to say this, but to me, you were absolutely every French stereotype that we ever heard about."

Fleur huffed. "Eet's not my fault zat your country is ze way eet ees."

Harry chuckled lightly before continuing. "Even so, there was no hostility towards you until our first interaction, back when I was chosen against my will to participate in the tournament. I am very proud of my accomplishments, so let's just say I was less than appreciative of being called a "leetle boy".

Fleur giggled a little. " _Pardon_ , 'Arry."

Harry nodded before continuing. "I disliked you for a while, becoming annoyed at the mere sight of you. Then it happened, the day when the badges exploded, I saw a Fleur Delacour that was so different and so… lovely," Fleur's cheeks tinted a little, "When it happened I saw you. You were scared, vulnerable. I rushed to help you and looked straight into you. You were beautiful, the real you was beautiful in ways I had never seen from another woman. I was so angry before and one look at you calmed me. That's the moment I became attracted to you. I wanted to see more of the woman that appeared in those moments. The real Fleur Delacour."

Harry saw that Fleur's eyes started to get a little watery, her posture was not as confident as before, her lips quivering slightly.

"But you kept running away," he continued, "I kept having these thoughts, that if you were mine you would never be able to run away. I wanted you, but I couldn't have you. You were so unreachable, I couldn't find the way to express what I wanted, or what I felt. So, I put it into writing and tried to find a way, any way to get you to notice me. I thought I did well during the ceremony. I was finally able to speak to you… and then I messed it up."

Harry took another deep breath before continuing. "After that, I chose to ignore you so I could forget about you. I blamed myself for destroying any chance I might have had, I was going to burn everything that reminded me off… the things I like – so that I can be  _normal_. Then yesterday happened and I am confused as to what I should do. Should I go ahead as I planned and try and be like everybody else, or should I pursue my desires?"

Fleur nodded at him, seemingly understanding his dilemma

She took a deep breath before she started to speak. "I noticed you ever since I arrived at zis dreadful country. During ze welcome feast I approached you because you were alone. I noticed ze bowl of  _bouillabaisse_ beside you was full. I do not like ze greasy Eenglish food, so I walked over to you because you were alone. I imagined zat talking to one overexcited boy was better zan talking to a dozen."

Harry saw as Fleur grabbed his hand before she continued. "You 'ave to understand, 'Arry, what eet means to be Veela. You are wanted only for your looks and can nevair let your guard down. I zought zat you would be anozzer one of zem. But I was wrong 'Arry, I was so wrong," she said in an almost pleading voice.

"I paid leetle attention to you after ze choosing, zat ees until ze day of ze explosions. You did somezing I zought was impossible. You 'eld me to protect me, and when I asked you to let me go, you did. No ozzer person would 'ave done so. I was amazed. Zen Madame Maxime started to tell my about you, about your accomplishments. She told me zat you were not prejudiced and zat you were brave. Zat you were talented and noble and powerful. Even someone like me can be impressed by tales like zat."

Harry nodded a little in a moment of self-absorption. What can he say? His track record clearly spoke for himself, as was expected of the future Lord Potter.

"But I denied eet to myself. No matter 'ow much I started to fantasize about us… I reasoned zat you were younger zan me, zat eet would end in tragedy for us. Zat was until ze ceremony when we talked. I was so glad to talk to you. Ze defenses I made around me started to go away… zen I saw the parchment."

Fleur dipped her head for a moment, trying to find the right words to say.

"'Arry, I… 'ave ze same fantasies as you do. I was angry because zat was ze only way I could react. I zought eet was too good to be true, zat not only were you resistant to my allure, but zat you and I shared ze same… interests. I lashed out against you because I was lashing out against myself. Against my nature…  _mon dieu_ … I am so sorry 'Arry!"

Harry saw tears threatening to spill from her blue eyes until she managed to compose herself enough to continue her side of the events.

"We separated from each ozzer zen. I was sad, sadder zan I had ever been. I zought zat I 'ad ruined everyzing. I wanted to go back in time and nevair say the zings I said. I saw zat you were ignoring me, and eet 'urt me zat my only chance of 'aving zat kind of 'appiness was over. I walked back to ze carriage… zen I was assaulted by zem."

The Potter heir restrained his anger at the mention of Adrian Pucey's gang. Even more than before now that he knew they would not be receiving the punishment they deserved.

"Zen you appeared 'Arry. You – brave, noble, and wonderful 'Arry Potter. I saw ze person you truly were and I wanted to be yours. Zere was no 'esitation, I signed ze contract, and I left eet to you. I want to be yours 'Arry. Eef you will still 'ave me," she finished, looking extremely tired as she poured all her feelings out to him.

Harry was momentarily stunned by hearing Fleur's side of the story, but there was more that he needed to know.

"Fleur… about those things. Why do you like them? When I see you, all that I can see is a strong and confident witch that would never bow down to any person. You could have any man kneeling at you… why do you wish to submit yourself to me?"

Fleur smiled sadly. "'Arry, you see 'ow ozzer look at me but 'ow do you zink I feel about eet?" Harry did not answer her question.

"I always 'ave to be in control of my allure, unless somezing bad 'appens. I cannot wear clothes like ozzer girls do or go out when I wish. I cannot trust people like zey do. Being in control of every part of yourself at all times… eet's exhausting, sometimes I feel zat I can't breathe. When I zink about submitting – about being bound and helpless and not being in control… zat ees when I truly feel zat I am free. When I can truly allow myself to be who I want to be, when I feel truly powerful and complete. But I 'ave not been able to find someone to trust completely wiz my feelings, my desires… until now."

Fleur then left her seat and knelt down beside him, her hands seeking his own as her eyes penetrated his own.

"Until you."

Harry breathed in deeply. "You trust me?"

Fleur nodded. " _Oui_ , 'Arry. You 'ave proven yourself. You are ze only one I trust wiz my desires. Please, give us a anozzer chance. I know you feel bad about what you like. Eet feels like you are abnormal and a freak, but we are not. I felt terrible when I started to realize my desires, but I 'ave accepted what I am, my fantasies. I can 'elp you, and you can 'elp me."

Harry sighed before taking out the contract from under his robes, Fleur's eyes widening at the sight. The Potter heir then took out his wand and a small flame was conjured from the tip. He watched as Fleur's face fell into deep sadness as he burned the contract in front of her. Tears were trailing down her cheeks as she looked at him.

"I see… I am sorry 'Arry I-"

"It's not like that," Harry stated to her firmly, waiting until she composed herself before continuing. "I was selfish when I wrote this, only centered on what I wanted. I now know that this is not only for me, but for you as well. That's why I'm burning it. This isn't about me and what I want, it's about us and what we wish to have. So, let's start clean, you and me, we will start once again."

Tears once again welled in Fleur's eyes – tears of happiness – as she launched herself to Harry to embrace him, kissing him in both of his cheeks.

"Zank you! Zank you!" she gasped until her lips found his own.

Harry's eyes widened at Fleur's uncharacteristic enthusiasm, his heart soaring at the unexpected kiss.

None of his fantasies could ever compare to the real thing.

"Alright Fleur," he finally gasped when they were done. "So… do you want to begin?"

" _Oui,"_

Harry saw Fleur widen her eyes as he took out the collar from his bag, the black leather shining thanks to the lights that surrounded them. The young Veela's tongue traced her lower lip in fascination as she looked at the accessory.

Harry took snatched a pillow and placed it on the floor. Fleur understood the meaning immediately stood up and shakily knelt down on it, he noticed that she also placed her hands behind her back, almost like they were bound as well.

_"Now there's an idea, but I don't want to be too rough with her now. Later on though…"_ he saved the mental image for later.

Her breath hitched when she felt the cool touch of the leather encircling her throat. Excitement coursed through her as she remembered all the vivid fantasies she had ever had. They were no comparison to the real feeling of having the real thing around your neck.

She maneuvered her hair with shaky hands so that Harry might lock the accessory on her, feeling herself become extremely aroused when the "click" of a small lock was the only sound that could be heard in the room.

After Harry finished locking the collar safely around her neck, he went back to seating in front of her to add the final part of the ensemble. A long chain that was fixed to a leather handle on one end and in the other was a small carabiner. He quickly fixed the latter to the O-ring that was protruding from Fleur's throat.

There was no denying who was in charge now. Harry seated in front of the kneeling silver-haired Veela, who had a collar locked around her neck securely. The Potter heir felt completely in control of the beautiful girl, the hands behind her back gave her a look of further submission.

Harry stood up and tugged on the leash. Fleur understood immediately and stood from her kneeling position. He guided her to the door that would take them outside of the Room of Requirement.

"Fleur, I do believe I owed you a tour of the castle."

"Now?!" questioned Fleur, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

"Now," he confirmed calmly. Inside he was anything but calm, however, his heart was still pumping at the sight of the black leather fastened around Veela's slender neck.

"Zat ees insane! Ze staff will see us!" Fleur exclaimed.

Harry simply took out two special items, on one hand, was his father's invisibility cloak and in the other, he had the Marauder's map. He was fairly confident the two invaluable tools would help them remain undetected from any prying eyes. These two instruments had already helped him many times before when he needed to break Hogwarts rules, now he was just doing it with the beautiful French girl this time.

"If someone comes near, we can use the invisibility cloak. Nobody will be able to see us," assured Harry as he showed her his father's trusty invisibility cloak.

"And zey won't be able to see us?" asked Fleur, her eyes looking down towards her feet.

Harry looked down to see what the problem was, groaning mentally when he finally looked at the fancy shoes that she was wearing. It was not the ornate and expensive design of the footwear in question that was the problem – it was the two-inch heels integrated within them. It would definitely make enough noise that they could be heard for a long time. Considering that Hogwarts witches did not wear heels either they would know that it was a French student walking around the halls at night.

' _Leave it to the French to put more consideration into fashion than practicality.'_

"Why doesn't your school just wear normal shoes?" he asked exasperatedly.

Fleur bristled and sent him her normal haughty look. "You mean zose abominations ze 'Ogwarts witches walk around wiz? Zey look terrible!"

"They serve a purpose and are more practical. Shoes are to protect our feet, that's the only role they have," countered Harry, but Fleur was still insistent.

" _Non_ , shoes serve a higher purpose zan zat!" she defended.

They both looked at each other for some time before Fleur gave a small sigh and tried to go back to one of the seats. So fast in fact that Harry did not have the time to follow her. The handle to the leash still in her hand, it quickly went taught.

Fleur was momentarily shocked as the pressure around her neck so much that she stopped as she quickly touched the black leather around it. She had fantasized about this of course but did not truly realize how much such a simple artifact was able to limit her movement so efficiently. She turned back towards Harry, who quickly stepped beside her.

"Sorry, I did not know you were about to move," said Harry sincerely.

"Eet's alright, I'm just not used to zis," Fleur gasped as she shakily sat down. An excited blush started to appear on her cheeks.

Harry remained standing beside her as she started to take off her school shoes, leaving her feet clad only in her pantyhose. She took the opportunity to flex her previously confined toes before standing up and facing Harry once again with a mischievous little smile.

"Well zen  _Maître,_ " she mocked lightly, "lead ze way."

Harry took a deep breath at the nickname.

"What? like that? We need to get you other shoes," responded Harry.

Fleur looked back at him. " _No._  Eef ze only shoes are like ze 'orrible ones your witches wear, zen I will much prefer to not wear any shoes at all," she said with a snooty tone.

The Potter heir had to laugh a bit internally. Feeling confident, he tugged on the leash lightly causing Fleur to take a light step over to him.

"Well, then let's go," said Harry, walking over to the door and leaving the Room of Requirement.

He imagined that it would be best to go top down, starting with the seventh floor in which they were located, and eventually go down the stairs until they were on the ground floor, so that she may be taken to the carriage for the night.

With her shoes gone, guiding Fleur around the castle was a safer affair. With so little sound being produced, Harry was fully confident that they would not be caught by any unwanted attention. Even if it did come to that, then he could always use the Invisibility cloak to hide Fleur and himself until they were away from danger.

At least that's what he thought at first. He was about to be proven very,  _very,_ wrong.

They were about to turn a corner in the seventh floor when all of the sudden a smaller figure came skipping until it nearly bumped into them. Harry and Fleur went rigid at the new arrival. It would not be a good sight for either of them. Two champions, both walking around the castle after the allowed hours, and one of them being led around by a collar They braced for the reaction, fully expecting either a Professor

Instead, they stood face to face with a dreamy looking blonde. She looked a little odd in spite of the blue lined robes that identified her as a Ravenclaw witch. She sported a necklace that seemed to be made out of butterbeer bottle caps, she also had an odd pair of huge colored spectacles that completely hid her eyes. Her wand was not hidden in her robes like most witches would, rather it was behind her ear.

It took some time for Harry to recognize her, but when he did, a sense of relief washed over him. He had heard about this individual, Luna Lovegood was her name. More commonly known as "Loony" Lovegood. Looking at her appearance, he kind of understood why some people would call her as such. That is not why he was relieved though, he was relieved because, with her reputation for oddness, no one would believe if she saw Harry Potter leading the much-desired French champion on a leash during the night.

Fleur was not as relieved, however, and immediately went stiff. A red hue immediately covered her face, a deep put immediately settled in her stomach. Her mind told her to run, but it was not even the collar that stopped her flight. It was the fact that she could not find the strength to run for safety. She stood there, looking at the odd blonde in front of them as she spoke.

"Oh, hello. I was not aware that there were people around here at night?" said the shorter blonde girl with a dreamy voice. She then looked over to Fleur. "Oh my! I must inform you that you are suffering from a large infestation of Wrackspurts!"

Harry simply looked confused at her.

"Wrackwhats?"

"Wrackspurts," she said with soft authority. "They're invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy."

Fleur and Harry looked at the odd girl, then at each other before shrugging.

"What are you doing here at night?" asked Harry.

Luna took off the giant spectacles, revealing a pair of silvery eyes, a little darker than Fleur's hair color.

"I was trying to find my missing belongings… they were stolen by Nargles you see."

Harry's brow furrowed once more in confusion. "Nargles?"

Luna nodded rapidly.

"Terrible little creatures. They hide in mistletoes and steal when you are not looking," she then pointed towards her bottlecap necklace, "I have protection, but they have still taken my things away."

She then took a look at Fleur's feet and smiled. "I see they have also taken your shoes, I am also searching for them," she said.

Harry and Fleur looked down to see that her feet were indeed completely bare. The Potter heir sympathized with her immediately, knowing that her belongings were probably being taken by her Housemates rather than by any strange creature. Part of him wanted to tell her the reality of what was happening, trying to find the right words to break it to her.

Still, another part of Harry wanted to play with the possibilities a little more.

"Yeah, I'm actually helping her. Those nasty things have taken them away, that's why she hasn't returned back to the carriage," he explained with a matter of fact tone.

Fleur turned over to look at him with annoyance, but he just gave her a quick assuring smile before quickly turning back to the dreamy blonde girl.

"I see, she's your property then," she said, her right fist tapping against her open left palm in cute conviction.

Harry and Fleur both ended up gawking at her, the silver-eyed girl apparently having found nothing wrong with her statement if the small and innocent smile was anything to go by.

" _Q-quoi?!"_ gasped Fleur, her shock causing her to slip back into her native language.

"He is leading you with that necklace, isn't he? That means he owns you."

Harry looked at the handle for the leash in his hand, almost forgetting he had been leading a collared girl through the hallways. He let out a small yet nervous chuckle.

"It's not what you think. I'm actually helping her with a very rare disease," answered Harry.

Luna looked confused for once, yet also curious. "A disease? Is it a magical disease?"

Harry shooed his head negatively.

"No, it's a disease that can also appear in Muggles. Mostly with Muggle women and witches," he said with amusement in his voice, looking at Luna's inquisitive look before continuing,

"It's called the bitch-flu," he announced. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fleur giving him a small glare.

"The bitch-flu?" questioned Luna.

"Yes, the bitch-flu. Symptoms may include incredible physical attractiveness, haughtiness, the impulsive need to put others down, excessive complaining, and an unhealthy obsession with modern fashion," he continued.

Fleur's small glare then became even bigger at the description, yet there was amusement in the gesture. The initial shock of being discovered was now gone. Her usual haughty demeanor was even more amusing now that she had a collar around her milky neck.

"I have never heard of such a disease. I am so sorry for you," Luna said sincerely to Fleur, making the French witch look even more exasperated that she already was. "Is there any cure?" she asked Harry this time.

"Education in manners and humility are known to be effective. Though those solutions take some time," said Harry before turning to look at Fleur's blue eyes. "A quicker but more painful solution is a good spanking."

Fleur dropped her glare rapidly upon hearing that, the red color once again returning to her cheeks as she started to imagine herself strewn across Harry's lap face down as his open palm repeatedly slapped against her bottom after she had been particularly naughty.

' _No, Bad Fleur! Bad!'_ she thought to herself as she shook her head to get her mind off the small fantasy.

"I will try to research this disease. If I ever show some of the symptoms, I will ask you to give me the cure yourself," she said to the flabbergasted champions, before once again skipping away on her bare feet – something that made her virtually soundless – with that same dreamy look on her face to what Harry assumed was the Ravenclaw tower.

"What was zat?" asked Fleur, her embarrassment now gone, replaced by annoyance at the encounter.

"That… that was Luna Lovegood," said Harry.

Fleur looked at him with slight anger. "We 'ave been found out. You said we would not be caught!"

Harry tried to pacify the fuming French champion. "I'm sorry. Won't happen again. Besides, it was Luna Lovegood. She could tell the whole castle that the sky was blue and they would doubt her."

"But why did you speak to 'er about what we were doing. What were you zinking?!" she said to Harry alarmedly.

"Don't worry about it, let's just get on," he said with a slight tug on the leash, causing Fleur to cross her arms and let out a small huff.

"Vairy well. But eef she goes around ze school asking you to spank 'er tomorrow, zen eet was your fault, not mine!" she said and continued forward.

"Don't worry, the only person that's getting spanked in the nearby future is you," he said to her.

Harry got a little confident in that moment and let his hand wander behind her shapely bottom before giving it a little tap, causing the French witch to immediately give a small jump and an uncharacteristic yet very cute and feminine squeak. She turned to him to send another small glare but changed it with a playful little smirk before continuing forward.

Harry was taken aback a little.  _'Seems she's a bit of a little minx inside. What have I unleashed?'_

As promised, he gave her a small tour of the castle, making special note of the points of interest of the school. They passed through several classrooms, they were very lucky to not step right into one of the prefects or Professors that were patrolling the halls.

There were a couple of times that were close, in those moments they would both huddle together as they enveloped themselves in the invisibility cloak until they could get away. Harry enjoyed having her so close to him that he eventually started to take routes occupied routes so that he could feel the beautiful witch even closer.

It was an amazing thing, having Fleur clutching his robes closely, her delicate breath breathing with a little panic while the danger passed them by, the flowery scents that he had learned to relate to her. His control over her was intoxicating, he would lead her wherever he wanted her to go, she was obliged to follow him.

They almost got caught on the third floor. Harry remembered his first year when they needed to sneak into the forbidden floor in order to get the Philosopher's Stone. They had also used the invisibility cloak back then. They had also had the bad luck to run into Mrs. Norris. There once again, Harry and Fleur had to huddle together in order to not be seen by the resentful squib.

As he was getting away however, Fleur turned to him and searched for Harry's embrace. They had done this before, twice. But this time there was quiet, there was no danger. The Potter heir held her for what seemed like an eternity. Her body was complete perfection, yet it was the warmth she gave him that truly made him feel so powerful at the moment. Even without considering the collar and leash, her surrender was evident.

Fleur, on the other hand started to slowly let go of the constant control of her allure. The feeling was incredible, not once did Harry ever turn into a beast when she started to unleash it. She had been afraid that his self-control was a bi-product of being in intense situations when she had let go in the past. Now she knew better… and she was loving every second of it.

They both started to make their way back to the staircases but Harry took out the map in order to see how they could proceed to the lower levels in order to get back to the carriage.

"It's too dangerous right now, there are many prefects on the ground floor. I think we may get caught," he whispered to Fleur.

"Your room ees on ze fourth floor, wasn't eet?" she asked, waiting for his nod. "Zen let's go over zere and wait."

Harry nodded and both went back upstairs to the fourth floor, where his private room was now located. He did not worry much about this floor, the only other person that occupied it was Cedric, who was also given his own chambers as a Triwizard champion.

Fleur stepped into the room after him. Harry saw her looking over at the large couch that was in front of the lit fireplace. He immediately guided her to the seat and unclipped the leash from the collar. The leather piece around her neck was still fastened though, and he made his way behind her in order to try and unbuckle it.

To his surprise, Fleur placed her grabbed his hand as he started to undo the buckle.

" _Non,_  leave eet on for some more time," she said, her fingers tracing the black leather. A small yet beautiful smile formed on her lips.

_'She's getting into this even more than me,'_  thought Harry bemusedly.

He watched as she reclined down on the couch, lifting her legs to the couch so that she lay content on the comfortable piece of furniture. She closed her eyes, her fingers still tracing the collar. Harry took this opportunity to retrieve something he had left on top of his bed before he had left. He didn't expect to be using them so soon, but the situation certainly called for it.

Harry did not know what force gave him the audacity to move towards her, but he made his way back to the front of the couch silently, like a predator sizing up a particularly tasty prey. He then grabbed both her ankles and sat down on the couch, resting her legs on his lap.

The action caused Fleur too look at him in surprise, even more so when he started tracing his fingers across her silk clad legs. Still, she gave him her coquettish grin.

"And what do you zink you are doing,  _Maître?_ " she asked innocently.

"You were hogging all the space," he answered, "I'm going to have to punish you later."

Her smile got even more pronounced, and thus started a flirtatious war. Her hands leaving the collar and straying over below her skirt, she then started to pull down on her hose, milky white skin revealing itself. Fleur then stopped, expecting him to continue pulling down the garment himself.

Harry momentarily hesitated. This was getting a little out of hand, but confidence swelled in him and he dared to pull off the hose completely, revealed her soft thighs, long legs, and all the way to her pedicured toes.

Slowly, Harry dared to once again let his slightly trembling fingers trace her legs. Her skin was incredibly soft, completely flawless; he then let his whole hand rest on her thighs. He had let her do this, but it was once again time to gain dominance of the situation. The Potter heir raised his other hand to reveal the object that he had picked up earlier.

Fleur felt her heart stop upon seeing the soft white rope on Harry's hand. At first, she thought that what she was feeling was fear. There was only one thing that rope meant in their situation. But the tingling sensation in her spine made the young Veela realize that what she was feeling was excitement. With a shaky nod, she gave her approval to her green-eyed dominant.

Harry was feeling similarly excited as he grabbed her ankles and started to wrap the rope around her ankles until a soft laugh interrupted him. He turned back to see Fleur's amused smile.

"You 'ave nevair done zis before, 'ave you, 'Arry?"

Harry gave her a sheepish smile. "Not really, I didn't think there was much to it."

Fleur smiled at him before she started to give him instructions on how to properly bind her feet.

"Do a loop wiz ze rope. Zat's right – now you put zem around my ankles and start wrapping eet. Now trace ze rope in ze middle to tie zem tighter."

Harry followed Fleur's precise instructions, eventually finishing with a simple knot. In the end, the rope was wrapped around both ankles horizontally at first so that they were bound together. The rope was then turned vertically between the ankles to further secure them, almost like a pair of white cuffs. He made sure that the ropes were not too tight. Even with it being soft, he did not want to cause damage to Fleur's soft skin.

It was still very secure, as Fleur started to test it by trying to move her feet and finding it quite impossible to separate both her ankles to both their amusement. She looked at Harry slyly and offered her hands, allowing him to bind her other two extremities together.

Harry did not need to be encouraged further and started to tie both her wrists as well. This time he needed no indication, and fully enjoyed the act of coiling so that her hands were now bound together. Like before he made sure that the rope went over the strands that already capture her wrists in order to make sure that each hand was more secure.

The haze on his mind finally cleared and he took in the sight that he had created. There was Fleur – the woman of unparalleled beauty – tied up and at his mercy. He could not help but become even more excited at the image. His excitement only increased as he saw Fleur struggling playfully with her bonds, trying in vain to see if there was any conceivable way to free herself from the white restraints. The smile on her face reminded him that she was enjoying it as much as he was.

Fleur eventually got tired of struggling, and the now familiar look of mischief was plastered on her face again. Harry already knew what it looked like, her eyes would brighten up, and she would bite her lips as she smiled.

The platinum-haired Veela swung her legs away from his lap and managed to stand up, wobbling lightly at the forced posture before she surprised him by sitting down on his lap. He was glad that she managed to only land on her leg. Any closer and her shapely bottom would be feeling the poke of his excited manhood.

"So, my Lord Potter, you 'ave taken zis lovely flower from France into your lair of perverseness, what evil zings do you 'ave planned for her?" questioned Fleur sultrily.

"Well, I have so much planned for this flower, so much that I dare not say it all at once," he responded, momentarily stunned at his new-found audacity and confidence.

Fleur pouted at him as she started to slowly grind her bottom in his lap, slowly licking her lips in arousal. She similarly was impressed by her audacity but figured that it was a side effect of having absolutely no control over her allure, letting it all out with the one person she confided in so much. It was as he had told Harry before, the less control she had over the situation, the more freedom she ultimately felt. It was intoxicating, to give every worry she had to a person that was more than willing to take it.

Signing that contract was turning into the greatest decision she had ever made.

Harry knew, however, that he needed to keep control of both himself and Fleur. It would not do to drag this little session out to dangerous levels, he was the one in command, and as such, he needed to be the one who set the limitations for now.

"Fleur, it's getting late, really late. Let's not do things something that we will both regret tomorrow," he said in a stern voice.

Fleur sighed. "I understand, 'Arry," she said with an understanding smile, "But… well, 'ow do you zink we can go to ze carriage wiz ze Aurors and Prefects out zere guarding ze entrance?"

Harry cursed himself, he did not think that they would be able to leave now that the entrance to the castle was sealed for the night if what Dumbledore told him was true. Even with the invisibility cloak they would not be able to open the giant doors unseen. The other passages were too far away from the carriage, he did not want to expose Fleur to the cold Scottish nights, especially since he knew of her fondness for warmer environments.

"You can spend the night here if you want," he said.

Fleur gasped dramatically. " _Monsieur_ Potter, are you saying zat I – a young and vulnerable Veela – will sleep beside you tonight? Such daring,  _Maître._ "

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry, you take the bed. I this couch looks comfortable enough for me."

Fleur shook her head. " _Non,_ 'Arry. Eet ees your bed, I will not take eet. Besides, you are ze dominant, I am ze submissive."

Harry frowned. "Do you think just because you are my submissive that I can treat like you're inferior. You're right, I am the dominant, that means that I have to take care of you," he told her firmly. "Besides, who said a dominant can't pamper his submissive?" he added.

The emerald-eyed wizard then grabbed the bound Veela and lifted her in a bridal style position, eliciting a squeak from Fleur. Harry looked as she struggled playfully, her bound hands pressed to her chest protectively.

"You savage!"

Harry chuckled as he carried her to the king-sized bed, separating the silk drapes in order to lay his beautiful burden on the large mattress.

"I'm sorry Fleur, I don't have any women's clothes for you to wear during the night," he said.

"Eet's not a problem." she assured as her hands slipped into her uniform to retrieve her wand.

Harry saw the familiar sight of the ornate rosewood wand, she pointed it towards her school uniform and watched as the light blue garments transformed into a silk nightgown of the same color. He couldn't help but blush at the glorious sight, immediately turning away.

"You can stare 'Arry. Remembair, you are ze dominant. Eet won't do for you to not gaze upon your slave," declared Fleur seductively.

Harry looked back to the beautiful girl. She lay on the bed like a captured angel, platinum hair splayed around her, the black collar along with the ropes made her seem almost like she was there without her consent, taken from innocence into the world of perversion and submission. Nobody knew this side of her. They only saw the strong, unbending beauty. Only he was the witness to this side of Fleur: playful, curious, sultry…

_'And she is mine.'_

The raven-haired teen smiled as he made his way to the lavatory connected to the room so that he may also change for the night, giving Fleur some time to prepare herself for the night. Once he returned, however, he saw that Fleur still had not freed herself like he expected

He made his way to her in order to untie the ropes that held her hands and feet bound but Fleur just made her way back to the bed's headrest.

"Fleur, it's time to rest. Do you want to spend the rest of the night like this? You'll get marks tomorrow," said Harry.

Fleur just smiled as she bit her lip. "Zen come over 'ere and take zem off,  _Maître._ "

Harry sighed before striking. Using his seeker speed, he quickly grabbed the young woman's ankle dragged her. Fleur laughed as he placed himself on top of her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her while his legs prevented hers from moving.

"You are being very naughty Fleur. Between this and you belittling me at the choosing, I think you've earned yourself a might punishment," he flirted.

Fleur smirked as he started to undo the knots on the rope. Feeling a little playful, he started with her ankles, followed by the wrists. Red marks were visible where the ropes had been previously, but he suspected that they might be gone by the morning. He took out the key to the collar once again and this time Fleur reluctantly let him take off the leather accessory – the symbol of her submission – from her lily white slender neck.

He was about to leave but just like last night, Fleur grabbed his arm.

" 'Arry… zis bed ees big enough for ze both of us," she suggested.

"What?! Fleur I don't want to –"

"Not zat. Just… share ze bed for ze night?"

In the back of their mind, Fleur knew that this may have been going too far and too soon, but she did not care. The whole night was like a drug, and she wanted more and more. She wanted to experience everything that had been denied to her, she wanted to fairy-tales to come true.

She wanted Harry to make them come true.

Harry sighed. "Very well. But the next time we have one of these sessions I am going to give you some… discipline, for going too far and disobeying."

Fleur giggled. "I will keep zat een mind,  _Maître_."

Harry undid the covers and allowed the blue-eyed French girl to get under them. The night was especially cold, so he was sure Fleur would want as much warmth as was possible. He quickly cast a fire spell on the heater before climbing on the bed.

"Good night, Fleur," he said and quickly closed his green eyes, barely hearing his companion's words before going into a deep slumber.

" _Bonne nuit,_ 'Arry."

**AN: Song recommendation for the chapter is "Still of the Night" by Whitesnake from their self-titled 1987 album. One of the best metal love epics you will ever hear.**

**I hope this chapter justifies all the previous angst present in my writing. Fluff is coming.**

**So, this should really set the tone for how the first kinky interactions between Harry and Fleur will be like. Harry is not an experienced dominant/master the way many stories seem to portray him, both him and Fleur are young and interested in exploring their desires, not sex experts.**

**Harry seems to keep getting in trouble with the Ministry and the pureblood families. I wonder; will this come to bite him in the ass eventually? I'm setting the stage for bigger things after Voldemort is resurrected.**

**The political situation will be explored later on the second arc of the story, which will start after Fourth year concludes. I wanted to make sure to not have the usual "light", "grey/neutral", and "dark" parties. Instead they are divided into political interests, including social and economic situations, much like they would in a real world political system.**

**Also… Luna! I enjoy reading and writing her so much. We will definitely see more of her later on, especially fifth year.**

**If you have any questions or doubts, leave a review. If you also wish to beta this story, send me a PM. I am very active on my profile if you wish to give me any pointers.**

**Also, I have been getting the usual writer's block that usually results after starting a huge story. I do not think that this will be a problem, I do not plan on abandoning it at all, no matter how much time it takes to update, but I do wish to see if I can start another of my planned stories if I ever do get a little writer's block.**

**"A Godfather's Promise" will still be my main priority, but I do wish to have another story started to increase interest from other fandoms as well as help me when I get stuck writing this story. It really helps when I have inspiration for something else to keep me active as a writer.**

**POLL ANNOUNCEMENT!**

**As such I have a poll on my profile in which you are able to choose which one you are most interested in.**

**Also, I do have a DeviantArt account. While it is still empty, I may be posting some non-fanfiction BDSM writing (or "too hot for fanfiction") in there. The name is different however, LordPain312, if I do get a Core Membership, I plan on changing the name as well to the Metal Sage**

**Thank you all again for your support.**

**Coming up next: the first task.**

**Until next time**

**The Metal Sage**


	9. Into the Fire

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Here it is, chapter 8. I definitely hope that this chapter speeds up the writing, I'm aware of how slow the story has moved and I hope I can start to make it run quicker with this chapter. We have arrived at the moment of the first task.**

**As such, there will be a lot more scenes that show more essential parts of the story, I cut down on the minutiae a whole lot.**

**As for the poll, the votes have been counted, and the results were actually surprising. I thought for sure the Naruto story would end up winning, but the Naruto/Marvel/DC one took the prize, followed by The Conqueror Reborn, and The Legend of Master Senju Naruto in third place. After that, you pervs actually wanted me to write the Batman BDSM story. I guess it will have to come later.**

**I do think if I do a third story, it will be the Batman one since it'll be far shorter than most of the others.**

**I didn't expect Heir of the Sage to win, so I will have to get myself reacquainted with Marvel comics… old Marvel comics, not Marvel NOW! and Axel Alonso's social justice reign of suckatude that is modern Marvel. Let's hope that C.B. Cebulski can get the House of Ideas away from politics and back on track with great storylines.**

**I'm going to begin re-reading Chris Claremont's X-Men run to start with, and I just purchased Daredevil: Born Again (may the holiness that is Frank Miller purge the memories of Axel Alonso forever). If you have any more storylines that you think I should read, I welcome suggestions. I mostly read Ultimate universe ones or 90's X-Men.**

**I'll still keep this story as my priority, but it's nice to have a side project when I get author's block. As for the status of the story, I now have over 2,000 follows for "A Godfather's Promise". I never truly expected to get this much when I first started to write this on late January, and we are just getting truly started.**

**Well, negativity over, enjoy the chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

"Dialogue"

' _Thoughts'_

" _Foreign Language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter VIII: Into the Fire**

Harry didn't notice how late it truly was when he first woke up, it was so comfortable that he just decided to shut his eyes once more and drift back to deep slumber. He did not even question why such peace and serenity was washing all over him.

The second time he definitely felt something different than he was normally used to feeling when he woke up. There was a distinctive warmth pressed to his side, a small weight added to his chest and he felt his left legs enveloped as well, the extra heat was welcome in the cold Scottish morning.

This time he looked down and was struck by the loveliest sight he had ever seen. He did not know whether Fleur had gotten cold during the night or if she was simply clingy by nature, but the distance they had before he dozed off was completely gone. Her head was resting on his chest, a small gorgeous smile plastered on her lips. Her silver hair cascading all around her. He could feel that her long legs were wrapped around his own, he realized that she was enveloped around his left arm, feeling with it rest comfortably on the valley of her breasts.

After what felt like an eternity of staring, he started to pull himself away from her so that he could go for his morning exercise. That was until Fleur hugged his arm closer, locking herself to it in a tight grip. Harry would've kept trying but the distressed look and the quiet whine that emitted from the sleeping form of the French beauty prevented him from going any further.

Harry sighed – maybe he didn't feel like working out today?

He once again covered himself and Fleur with the sheets and drifted off to sleep. It was a Sunday, so he didn't have any classes anyway.

It didn't have anything to do with sleeping some more with the dazzling Veela. Well… maybe just a little.

It was already midday by the time that he managed to wake up for the third time. He did not know if the reason for staying in bed for so long was because he was so tired or because of Fleur, who was still breathing lightly in her sleep.

This time, he did need to wake up.

Ignoring the small whine, he managed to pry himself from the grasp of the older girl, standing upright and stretching himself in his morning ritual. He quickly made sure to cover the sleeping form of Fleur with the heavy blankets.

It still proved too little compared to his heat however, if the small murmurs from Fleur were any indications.

"Come back to bed, 'Arry," she begged. "Eet's still too early."

Harry chuckled. "It's past breakfast time."

"Ugh, you Eenglish and your antiquated ideals of working 'ours. We are not eighteenth-century farmers anymore, so why are you still waking up like you are one? Eet's Sunday! Come back to bed!"

"I'm hungry," Harry reasoned. "I'll come back with some food from the kitchens," he said as he started to put on his robes.

"Fine – bring somezing French! And when you come back you are getting back on zis bed!"

Harry snickered before stepping out to the cold castle and quickly going to the kitchens to ask for some food. He could have asked Dobby to bring some to them, but he did not want the elf to go around spreading rumors of 'The Great Harry Potter and the French Veela' sleeping together.

The elves were more than willing to share with him the dishes that they served during the breakfast meal. It was sort of an open secret that you could go to the kitchens anytime for some food, but most people were aloof to the fact and believed that if you missed the meals, the you were out of luck. It was a surprise that he managed to spot Cedric Diggory also asking for two meals.

"Cho sending you for breakfast?" he asked Cedric, causing the older Hufflepuff to sputter a little.

"W-what do you mean?"

Harry smirked. "Having your own room sure is something isn't it. Why – I don't know how I will be able to go back once this Tournament is over."

Cedric smiled. "It sure is. I heard it was your idea, thanks for that."

Harry nodded. "Just do us all a favor and use protection. One Diggory is enough for now."

Cedric glared playfully before looking at Harry's choice of breakfast. "Same goes for you, last thing we want is for Beauxbatons to have to cancel their participation from the Tournament."

Harry cursed himself lightly, he guessed it was kind of obvious considering the plates of French bread that he had ordered.

Once he made his way back to his room, he was struck with the vision of a freshly awakened Fleur.

The rays of sunlight seemed to reflect on her hair, the nightgown clung to her body tightly as she started to stretch out. Despite still sitting on the bed, just barely woken up from her slumber, the platinum tresses did not look tangled in the least.

Harry could not find the words, he simply started to make his way awkwardly towards the bed, breakfast in tow.

"What did you bring?" she finally asked.

"I don't know, I just asked for French," he admitted.

Fleur smiled. "Zen come, eet's time for you to eat some civilized food for once."

Harry smirked before taking off his robes again and sitting on the warm bed besides her. Fleur started to rummage on the bag that contained the meal. Her face brightening even more as she revealed the contents.

" _Pain au chocolat! Chausson aux Pommes!_  See, even you Eenglish are capable of making good food when you really try."

Harry snickered at her attitude. "Coffee or tea?" he asked, pulling out instant versions of the two.

"Tea?" scoffed Fleur. "What sort of uncultured barbarian drinks  _tea_  wiz  _pain au chocolat?_ "

Harry had to admit, the French pastries really were delicious. The coffee – which Fleur insisted on preparing herself – was equally as good. He'll give this to the French, they did manage to be outstanding when it comes to culinary arts.

' _And girls,'_  he quickly added, looking at the satisfied Veela as she finished her breakfast.

It was only when she had finished that Fleur seemed to realize the time it was.

" _Mon dieu!_  Eet's late! Madame Maxime will be looking for  _moi_. I need to go 'Arry," she said before smiling. "When will we be… doing zis again?"

Harry sighed a little before telling her what neither of them truly wanted to hear.

"It will take some time. The task is in less than two weeks and I'm going to be training as hard as I can. Besides, Dumbledore is closing in on leads on who placed my name on the Goblet. I will be very busy. We will be having three long months until the second task, we'll have plenty of time for another… session."

Fleur looked at him with some sadness but quickly kissed his lips and gave him a saucy smile.

"Zen I will be waiting…  _Maître."_

* * *

That night found Harry, Remus, and Sirius once again summoned by Professor Dumbledore to his office. Harry decided to speak his mind once again about what they had been discussing before. The Slytherin seventh-year gang that had assaulted Fleur.

"Professor, I know that you cannot expel the students that attacked Fleur – "

"So... it's "Fleur" now, is it Harry?" teased Sirius.

" – without evidence," continued Harry while he glared at his godfather. "However, there must simply be a way to get justice. If Fleur were to testify…"

"Even if you both testify, you will still be outnumbered almost eight to one. The teachers cannot get involved since they were not at the scene of the crime. Malfoy's party hast the second most seats in parliament, who do you think they will support?" informed Dumbledore.

"But if Lord Greengrass could be convinced?" replied Harry.

Dumbledore looked at him with his twinkling blue eyes. "Cygnus Greengrass is the leader of the largest party, to be sure. But the Wela party is known for not taking a side in these issues, they only care about one thing, the thing that has made sure they've won every election since the war…"

"Money," finished Sirius.

Dumbledore nodded. "Cygnus Greengrass came from a humble family, much like the Weasley family. The only thing he had was his name and his blood status. Sorted into Slytherin, he was ambitious from the moment he arrived. He did not take a side during the war, neither did his family, he watched the war unfurl around him and waited for the moment to strike. War is an expensive affair, and he made sure he knew exactly who to sell to. Protective runes here, portkeys there. By the age of eighteen he was a self-made man with great wealth."

Sirius then picked up the story. "By the end of the war. Nobody wanted to even remember it, they wanted to forget the very idea that someone like Voldemort had once existed. Cygnus saw this and made his greatest move, the formation of the Wela party."

Dumbledore continued once again. "The Wela party have been considered to be neutrals, but that is far from what made them popular. They were focused on economics, on prosperity, on  _abundance_. They won in a landslide, Cygnus' wealth now surpasses the Lestrange family's, the Black's, even the Malfoy's. He even followed the Potter example and opened businesses in the Muggle world. House Greengrass' riches are now second only to your family's."

Harry took a moment to protest. "Professor, I know Daphne. If I could convince her, then maybe she can get through to him."

Dumbledore sighed. "You may try Harry but Cygnus is a man who is more cautious than anyone, he doesn't do favors, he does deals. His image is the most important for Wela. His family's blood status satisfies the traditionalists, and his business side is popular with half-bloods and muggleborns. He will not tarnish his reputation."

Dumbledore coughed. "Now, is there anything else?"

Harry and Sirius shook their heads.

"Very well, because I have found some more disturbing occurrences while I was at the Ministry."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"Walden Macnair has gone missing," revealed Dumbledore.

Sirius frowned. "That psychopath? The one that chopped Alistaire with an axe?"

"The very same," replied Dumbledore. "The interesting thing is, he went away just at the moment that Lord Crabbe returned from a vacation, and  _his_ vacation started just after Lord Goyle returned from a business trip."

"All members of the Protectionist Party," noted Harry, "where have they been going to?"

"Unknown, but it is strange," replied Dumbledore.

"Think they're organizing an attack? Retaliation for what happened with their children?"

"Without Rookwood? Suicide," stated Remus, who had been silent throughout their conversation.

Harry's questioning look was enough for Sirius to respond.

"Augustus Rookwood, chief strategist and top spy of the Death Eaters during the war. His tactics were responsible for more than a few of my dead comrades. He was crafty, we wouldn't have caught him if Karkaroff didn't rat him out. Thankfully, he's locked up in Azkaban. Lucius may have wealth and political savvy, but his tactics were shite. There's no way Voldemort's supporters could go against Amelia and succeed under his leadership."

Remus nodded sagely. "You-Know-Who's cream of the crop is behind bars. They're no match for Amelia's Aurors stationed in the castle."

"For now," replied Harry.

"For now," agreed Dumbledore.

"Do you think any of this has to do with Bertha Jorkins?" asked Remus.

"I do not know. She went missing in Albania, but I have no evidence to suggest that Crabbe and Goyle also went there," answered Dumbledore. "I will keep my ear to the ground to see what else there may be. Until then, I leave young Harry in your capable hands, prepare him for the first task. You have less than two weeks now."

Once Dumbledore gave them leave, Harry, Sirius, and Remus made their way to the Room of Requirement once again so they could continue training for the upcoming tasks. Not only for the Tournament, but for the trials they were beginning to fear would come in the future.

* * *

Fleur didn't know why, but it was almost as if the complications she had been having with several advanced spells was completely gone. The Patronus charm she'd had so much trouble with almost seemed simple now, the heavy weight and stress from previous days dissipated, leaving only a sense of peace and confidence.

"That was amazing Fleur!" congratulated Clemence, Monique and Amelie clapping behind her as well.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. It did not feel forced like it had been the last time they practiced together.

"You have gotten a lot better," commented Amelie. "Have you been doing anything that we don't know of?" she teased.

It took all the effort in the world not to blush at the implications.

"W-well, I've been sleeping better," it wasn't a lie, but neither was it the whole truth.

"Well, whatever you've been doing, it's certainly working," Monique said with a grin.

Fleur thought back on exactly  _what_  she had been doing yesterday. A wave of happiness filled her as she remembered the magnificent night she spent with Harry.

' _Was it that? I know I relieved stress when I was under his control but… did I actually get stronger by submitting to him?'_

"So… you think you are ready for the first task? It's in less than two weeks after all," reminded Clemence.

"I don't even know what the task will imply but right now I feel like I can take anything they can throw at me," answered Fleur.

"That's great! I know you can do it, Fleur. You are the best, it's time to show everyone just what you can be," cheered Monique.

Fleur thanked her friends before entering her room for the night. After her nightly ablutions, she crawled unto her bed and immediately noted that even with all her covers, she could not get warm enough to sleep.

After the night she had before, she doubted she would ever be able to sleep comfortably again when she was alone. She grabbed one of the pillows and embraced it like she had done so to Harry the previous night, only to find that it did not bring the same level of comfort as being wrapped around her dominant. It took her sometime to give in to a restless sleep.

The next week was challenging, she did not have the time to interact with Harry as much as she wanted to, given that she needed to prepare for the upcoming task. The few times that she did see him were the rare times that Harry took his meals in the Great Hall, and he was usually done really fast so that he may return to his training. She made sure to give him a smile every time she saw him though, which the emerald-eyed wizard always returned.

Fleur now waited for the first task with anticipation. Not because of the competition itself, rather because Harry would spend more time with her. They'd be able to have another one of their sessions, an excuse to be able to sleep besides him again.

Until then, she was training. She had not forgotten her purpose since the year started. She was to compete, she was to win, and she needed to beat all her opposition – even if Harry was counted as one of her rivals. Fleur Delacour would be the pride of Beauxbatons and France, to let the whole world see what she could truly do.

* * *

Harry had been having a similarly vexing week, when he was not in class or eating, he was training physically on the Hogwarts grounds, the Gryffindor was learning how to fight with his godfather and Remus, leaving him with very little time to do anything else.

Not that it mattered, the interactions with his house had become as minimal as possible now that he was no longer sleeping in the same part of the castle as them, reducing the time he spent with them to class or the usual meals. He mostly interacted with Neville and some of his Quidditch teammates like Katie or Alicia, but they could be reduced mostly to small talk and side comments.

The warmest interactions were not even done with words. Let it not be said that Fleur didn't know how to warm up a person with just one single smile, they were enough to give him the motivation to continue forwards with his training.

Even so, human communication is a must for everyday humans, as such, Harry shared one of the most uncomfortable ones during Charms class with the Hufflepuffs and Potions class with the Slytherins. Surprisingly, they were troublesome not because of the houses themselves like it usually was with Malfoy and his Death Eater Youth, but rather because of two girls.

"Hey Susan, how are you today?" he remembered saying to the crimson haired Hufflepuff.

"Umm – I guess I'm okay," she responded softly, the usual cheer that she regularly sported gone the moment that she had set her eyes one him for some reason or another.

"You sure, you sound a little down," Harry responded with a small amount of concern. He knew that her kind nature often drew in the kind of crowd she was better off without.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Hannah seemed to shooting him dirty looks when she wasn't talking to Neville. It was strange, while not as approachable as her buxom friend, he had never seen the pigtailed blond send him such looks before.

"I'm fine, Harry. No need to worry about it, it's nothing," Susan murmured sadly, her grey eyes fixed somewhere else. She didn't look at him during the entire class.

There was definitely something wrong with her and he was adamant to find out what it was. After the class ended he intended to keep talking, but Hannah separated from Neville in order to talk to him.

"Go on Sue, I'll meet you later at the Common Room," she said before sending a look to Neville, making the shy Gryffindor nod before leaving both of them alone.

Hannah regarded him for a moment, neither of them saying a word until she finally broke the silence.

"Stop talking to Susan," she finally demanded, a little bit of anger evident in her tone.

"What?" he demanded. "Why?"

"Really? You don't know?" she asked incredulously.

"Know what? I don't know what I've done that could hurt her. She's my friend – both of you are," Harry responded.

"You know… for being the brightest wizard of our year, you sure are more than a little dense," the blonde said with an annoyed tone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Hannah sighed. "Look… just don't talk to her for some time please. She's been having some trouble recently."

Harry was concerned at that point, wanting to protect the gentle redhead from any problem she may be having.

"If she's having any problems then let me help you with them. Just tell me what's been going on."

Hannah looked at him sadly. "You'll just be making it worse. Please… leave her alone."

The pigtailed girl then left him quickly to catch up with the girl that had been the topic of their conversation, leaving him alone and confused as to why the rift between him and the Hufflepuff girls had formed from one day to the next.

But if his encounter with the Susan and Hannah was cold, then the one with Daphne Greengrass was marred with thinly veiled hostility.

"Well, if it isn't the golden boy himself. Come to bother us once again, haven't you Potter?" she said once he took his now habitual seat by her side during Transfiguration classes.

"And here I was thinking that we were beginning to become friends. Why so angry this day, Princess?" he responded.

Daphne sighed. "Just shut up and don't talk to me Potter. Don't be a Gryffindor for one hour and try not to be the center of attention."

"I'm not talking to anyone else – only you, Daph."

"Then don't!" Daphne snapped, her composed demeanor breaking for a second. "I want to interact with you less than I usually do – and stop addressing me so familiarly! It's Greengrass or Ms. Greengrass to you, Potter."

"Hey – if you don't want me here, then I'll go. Look – there's Malfoy over there! I'm sure he'd love to trade places. I just know that you want to continue your courtship… be sure to invite me to the wedding when it happens!" said Harry.

Daphne finally looked over to him with an angry face.

"Fine, Potter! You are absolutely infuriating, you know that?!"

Harry chuckled. "I have been known to cause more than a few gray hairs over time. But seriously, you are even more bitchy than your normal self, what happened?"

Tracey decided to pipe in.

"Yeah, Daph. You've been very irritable ever since that French – "

Daphne immediately sent the most menacing glare Harry had ever seen to half-blood Slytherin. It was enough to make the witch recoil with frightened amusement. For once, the Gryffindor was glad he was not on the receiving end of one of the pureblood princess' practiced scowls.

"What happened?" asked Harry, feeling a little déjà vu when he remembered the meeting with the Hufflepuff girls the previous day.

"Nothing!" snapped Daphne. "Let's just get to work. I don't want to lose track of the class thanks to you, Potter!" she admonished. The red hue that tinted her cheeks made her suddenly lose all threat that she might've possessed initially.

By the end of the week, Harry Potter was completely confused as to how his newfound relationships had gone so sour so quickly.

Hermione seemed to be wanting to talk to him, but not being able to find the courage or the time in order to approach him. Every time he managed to stop glancing at Fleur and look over to his brown-haired friend, she would return the gaze with sadness in her eyes. As much as he wanted to go over to her and talk like they used to, Harry knew that she was the one who needed to come to him if she truly wanted to apologize.

Ron, on the other hand, had become completely unbearable. With the newfound rumors of him and Fleur – fueled further by their interaction in the middle of the Great Hall that led to their relationship – the youngest Weasley male's jealousy seemed to have exploded to proportions Harry didn't even think were possible. His favorite pastime during meals seemed to be a combination of shoveling as much food down his gullet as possible, drooling at the sight of Fleur, and glaring at Harry from his place.

Susan had gone from cheerfully greeting him every time she had the chance, to looking over with sadness and barely saying a word to him. Daphne had become even more bitchy than before, now even refusing to look or say something to him. The violet-eyed Slytherin now ignoring Harry completely.

The highlight of his week didn't actually come from anyone on his year, but from Luna Lovegood.

He thanked whatever deity was watching over him that the pale-blond girl had approached him when there was no one within earshot. The dreamy and innocent look plastered on her face were a complete juxtaposition to the words that eventually came from her lips.

"Hello, Harry," she said after skipping over to him in the abandoned hallway.

"Hey Luna, how are you today? Find your shoes?" asked Harry.

Luna nodded with wide eyes. "I did find them," the blonde said as she showed him her usual brown footwear. "Unfortunately, the Nargles were tricky. They seemed to have separated them form my socks. Those are still lost," the younger Ravenclaw then slipped off one of the shoes to show the bare foot. The sight made Harry feel a sympathy for the silver-eyed girl now that he knew what it was to be a complete social outcast.

' _Sorry Luna, I'm a little busy right now but once I'm done with the task, I will go ahead and help you deal with the people doing this to you,'_ Harry promised to himself.

"I'm sorry for troubling you with this, but I've been researching about the disease you talked about," said Luna.

' _Oh crap, she's still on that?!'_

"R-really, what did you find?" asked Harry carefully.

"Nothing really. That's why I'm asking you. Do you think I can do an article about it on the Quibbler?" she asked innocently. "If it's such a dangerous disease, then people should know!"

"Look Luna, I don't think you should worry too much about it. It's very rare, I mean – have you ever seen someone get spanked because they needed punishment?"

"I remember when I saw Daddy spank Mummy, but it did not seem like punishment. After that, Mummy got on her knees and pulled out Daddy's pe – "

"Luna!" gasped Harry. "Too much information!"

"Oh, I am sorry Harry. Will you spank me then?" she asked softly with innocuous eyes.

Harry almost did a spit take. "L-luna, I don't see why you need to be spanked!"

Luna put a finger at the side of her head, as if she was deep in thought until she finally answered.

"I told Megan today that she was being really mean because she did not believe in Blibbering Humdingers' plan to take over our bodies," said Luna softly. "She called me a crazy bitch, so I think I might have the bitch-flu. I asked Madam Pomfrey to give me the fast treatment but she just turned red and sent me away. She said that she wants to ask you later for the details of the flu."

' _Sweet Merlin, Pomfrey's going to skin me alive. Why didn't I listen to Fleur?'_

Harry took a few seconds to think about the response she could possibly give to the shorter girl.

"Luna… you don't have the bitch-flu, you have none of the symptoms. You're a good girl aren't you Luna?"

Luna nodded uncertainly. "I think I am a good girl… should you be spanking Megan then? Are you spanking that Beauxbatons girl?"

"No!" gasped Harry, mentally getting excited about the small fantasy of Fleur strewn across his lap and turning her shapely arse red with the palm of his hand.

"Alright then. Before I go, I want to ask you something else," she said. "Do you think you could put one of those necklaces on me?"

' _Christ, what have I created?'_ Harry thought before responding. "No! Luna, why would you want a collar on your neck?!"

Luna looked around conspiratorially before whispering. "I woke up today in the middle of the Ravenclaw Tower. I think the Nargles were taking me away – but I woke up just in time!" she finished triumphantly.

"What does that have to do with anything? How would a collar help you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, if they see that I'm your property, they won't take me away," she said with a small amount of satisfaction.

"Why would you want to be my property?"

"Well – you seem nice, and you have that nice French student with you, so you already have experience with taking care of girls."

Harry sighed. "Luna, that girl… well… you could say that she's my girlfriend."

Luna nodded in understanding before smiling again. "Then I'll be your girlfriend too!"

The raven-haired wizard began to cough a little at the statement. On what kind of logic did this girl operate?

"I can't have two girlfriends!"

"Why not?" asked Luna sincerely.

Harry took a deep breath. "Because that's not how it works. One boy and one girl… or, if you're open minded it can be two girls together or – "

"And not one boy and two girls? That seems unfair." She interrupted.

Harry shrugged. "That's just the way it is. Look, if you are having trouble with anything – just tell me. I'll help you with anything. We're friends, right? Friends help each other."

Luna looked a little sad. "Okay Harry. I'll tell you if I need help. If you see a pair of socks around, do you think you could return them to me?"

"I will," Harry responded with a nod.

The one thing that he did learn about from Sirius was about the first task.

' _Dragons,'_

He immediately went over to find Fleur so that she might be informed of what the task would entail. She appreciated the gesture and gave him a small kiss, but his submissive told him that she had already been informed by Madame Maxime.

Since Karkaroff was also looking at the dragons, Harry imagined that Krum would also be informed of the dragons already, that left only one person that to his knowledge was still not informed.

Cedric.

He did owe him for taking that bullet with Skeeter after all. The Hufflepuff champion was still very grateful for the knowledge, promising to return the favor someday. It seemed that he was giving up a valuable advantage over one of his rivals, but it was not a true contest unless all champions were given a fair shot.

He spent the rest of his available time planning a strategy so that he might beat his dragon. He just hoped that neither him nor Fleur were going anywhere near that vicious Hungarian Horntail.

* * *

It was the day. Finally.

The day of the first task.

The day when he would be apparently going up against a dragon.

While Harry was now confident that his plan would work, it was still very difficult to sleep the previous night. He could not shake off the thoughts of being engulfed by dragonflames. For once, the Gryffindor's nightmares were not filled with hate, murder, and pain, but with the giant reptiles that were his own family's insignia.

' _Were my ancestors' enemies afraid of my family as much as they were afraid about true dragons. If so, then House Potter was truly a force of pure dread.'_

He was not alone. While taking his breakfast – which he was treating almost as a last meal – Harry let his eyes wander towards the other champions. There was Cedric, who was ignoring the tender caress of Cho Chang, seemingly unable to eat the hearty breakfast offered to him.

Krum on the other hand was still in his usual stony demeanor, but Harry could spy small rivulets of nervous sweat rolling down his head. He very much doubted it was because of the comparatively warm weather.

Then there was Fleur. His confident and beautiful Fleur.

She looked pale and clammy, so unlike the young woman that he had seen before. Even with a collar around her neck, she still carried on with pride. That seemed to be gone, staring off into space and giving only small bites to her meal.

It was only after they were done that their gazes finally met together, a look was enough for both of them to understand that they needed to talk to one another.

Harry signaled with the number four on his hand, a clear indication for her to go to the fourth floor and into his room. Then promptly went ahead to prepare himself for the upcoming task.

He was interrupted by the opening of the door. Fleur knew the password by this point, he trusted her with the contents of this room by now.

She was trembling when she finally entered his room, seemingly unable to calm down.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry once he managed to lead her to the sofa.

" _O-oui,_ I guess I am alright. I 'ave several strategies zat I've been practicing. Eef all ees well, zen I should be able to win zis."

Harry smiled with amusement. "So… 'win' is it."

Fleur managed to smile as well. "Zat ees right,  _Maître._ Even if you are my dominant, zere ees no way zat I'll give up. Eef you wish to beat me, zen you 'ave to earn it. Beauxbatons will win zis Tournament. I will make sure of eet."

"I guess I'll have to give it my all."

Fleur nodded before the look of nervousness once again crossed her facial features. She was biting her lip now, like she wanted to say something but was rendered completely mute by some unseen force.

"Put ze collar on  _moi_ ," she finally breathed out. Harry's eyes widened at her demand.

"What?! Fleur, you're going in front of the whole school out there!" whispered Harry.

Fleur pulled quickly conjured a blue scarf and showed it to him. "I will hide eet, 'Arry.  _S'il te plaît._ Please, I need eet!"

Harry sighed, and finally went to his trunk and rummaged around it before pulling out the simple leather collar they had used their first night together. The Potter heir proceeded to head back to the French beauty and started to fasten the symbol of submission on her neck.

He immediately noticed a change in Fleur. Whereas before she had been tense, it seemed as all nervousness had been washed away the moment the leather closed around her slender throat, her body now radiated calm and confidence. When the silver-haired Veela turned around, he noticed a smile was now sported on her lips instead of worrisome eyes.

They stared at each other eyes before she suddenly wrapped her arms behind his and pulled him for a quick kiss. Her eyes shining once she pulled away.

" _Merci!"_  she said, before wrapping the scarf around her neck and leaving the room quickly in order to get ready.

After standing for a couple of minutes, Harry suddenly remembered that he also had to compete today.

He went back to his trunk and pulled out the outfit that he had designed for the tournament. He made sure that this particular outfit was well made, both in its visual appearance and its efficacy. Red and black, with the symbol of the Iceni Black with gladius swords crossed behind it as the centerpiece.

' _I'll wear this with pride today.'_

Once completely fitted, he took a few extra bites of fresh bread for added energy and made his way to the grounds where he would be facing the Tournament's First Task.

It was a chilly day, apt for the month of November. A testament of the cold to come but not yet suffering from the frigid winds that winter would bring upon the British school. He knew that Fleur would be especially bad-tempered when the snows began to fall down.

The giant tent was a dead giveaway of where he should present himself. As he walked over it he noticed that there were four banners in the air. One was for Durmstrang, another for Beauxbatons, the third was for Hogwarts.

He noted with satisfaction that the fourth and final one was not for any of the schools. The same symbol plastered on the front of his attire was portrayed in the flapping banner. The symbol of dragons, of conquerors.

And now he would be facing one of them.

Harry went inside, immediately taking in the situation he was seeing. The first thing he noticed was the most beautiful thing in the tent, he had never seen Fleur so confident as she was now. When they locked eyes with each other, he saw her smile as she traced her scarf, lightly touching the collar secured underneath.

Cedric and Krum did not look nearly as composed as she was. The Bulgarian champion appeared to portray the same emotionless posture he was always used to favor, but the agitation was noticeable, if only slightly. The seventh-year Hufflepuff's uneasiness was a lot more evident, so much so that there seemed to be small rivulets of sweat trailing down his hair. He did manage to give Harry a small smile.

As soon as Bagman saw him step into the tent, he jumped enthusiastically from his seat and mad e his way to the Potter heir.

"Harry! Good-o!" he exclaimed happily. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Even if Fleur was feeling confident, Harry doubted that any of the champions, including him, were as enthusiastic about the events to come as the yellow clad older man was currently. Like a king's buffoon before an execution, Bagman proceeded to explain the rules for the upcoming task.

"Well, now we're all here — time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" — he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them — "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different — er — varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too . . . ah, yes . . . your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Bagman the opened the purple silk bag and offered it to Fleur. "Ladies first."

Harry saw the French beauty take a small breath before she put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew a small model of a green dragon with a number two around its neck.

A Welsh Green. Harry felt a wave of relief overcome him.  _'At least she doesn't have to take one of the harder ones'._

He then saw as Krum also put his hand inside the bag and drew out a scarlet Chinese Fireball. His lack of surprise confirmed the theory that Karkaroff had informed the Bulgarian seeker about the dragons.

The next one was Cedric, who pulled out the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, with a number one tied around its throat. Harry had assumed that the reason Bagman had left him for last was because he didn't want the Potter heir to face against the most aggressive of the dragons.

Well, if that had been the yellow-clad man's intentions, they had backfired spectacularly. Harry saw Fleur shoot him a look of fear. They both knew what was coming.

Harry introduce his hand inside the silk bag and pulled out the menacing little figure of the black Hungarian Horntail with a number four tied around its neck. The second most dangerous breed of dragon after the Iceni Black. Only difference was that the Iceni Black was meant to be extinct, the Hungarian Horntail was still very much alive, and waiting for him.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now . . . Harry . . . could I have a quick word? Outside?

Harry followed Bagman outside the tent. He offered help with the dragon but he denied it. He already had a strategy in place; he just wanted to go back inside and see Fleur again, before she went against her own dragon.

"Good lord, I've got to run!" exclaimed Bagman as soon as he heard a whistle being blown, he then scurried off.

Harry took a deep breath before going back inside the tent just as Cedric was coming out, he reminded the Gryffindor of a song where a man was going to a gallows pole of his own execution.

"Hallowed be thy name," he told the Hufflepuff.

"What?!" croaked Cedric.

"Nothing. Good luck out there," he told the Hufflepuff, watching him nod before going over to the enclosure where the dragon where the dragon awaited.

As soon as he entered the tent once again, he went over to the seated form of Fleur, completely ignoring Krum's surly form. They sat side by side in one of the corners of the tent, they didn't say a word to each other but they held each other's hands as they heard the commotion outside, finding mutual comfort in their presence.

After fifteen minutes, they heard the deafening roars of the crowd. Cedric had finished the Task. The loud whistle blew once again.

Fleur looked at Harry in the eyes before she stood up shakily. She was trembling as she walked over to leave the tent. The last thing he saw before she left was her wand in one hand, the other touching beneath the scarf measuredly as she stepped outside to meet her challenge.

* * *

Fleur stepped into the enclosure, immediately taken aback by the sight of the green dragon huddling protectively around the glinting golden egg. She was so stuck by the sight of her challenge that she barely noticed the extremely loud roars of the crowd around her. They were even noisier than Cedric's were.

It seemed as if the confidence she had accumulated before suddenly dissipated at the sight of the large reptile. She could feel herself trembling, cold sweat trailing down her body at the sight. She wanted to leave, to go back to the tent, to go back to Harry's arms.

Harry…

That's right… she had a piece of Harry with her right now. Her hand immediately went underneath her scarf, feeling the touch of the leather that encircled her neck, touching the black material that went unseen by the crowd. She felt the uneasiness wash away as she remembered that she did not need to control herself. She was collared, under the control of Harry, even if he was away from her at the moment.

She did not need to hold back.

She let go of all control. Remembering her time with her emerald-eyed dominant, she felt her allure radiate like she had done so during that night almost two weeks ago, how the ropes dug into her skin, the tugging of the collar as she was led around, the feeling of being helplessly carried off unto his bed.

Sleeping together with him…

The dragon seemed to notice her in that moment, but she simply let her allure do the work. The winged creature seemed to be vulnerable to the charms, if the perceived relaxed posture was any indication. To add to the spectacle, she started to hum with a melodious voice.

Slowly but surely, the dragon seemed as though it was falling in a trance. Hazed eyes barely seemed to care about the platinum-haired witch slowly walking over to the eggs under its wings.

The entranced look gave way to a sleepy as the large reptile started to droop its eyes and neck down to the floor, finally closing them and drifting off to a deep slumber. It went even better than she had expected, she did not even need to go to her contingency plan if the allure failed to captivate the green creature.

Carefully, she went over to the eggs and quickly grasped the golden egg, leaving the rest of her eggs behind. If Apolline's protective attitude around her and Gabrielle was any evidence, then she knew better than to meddle with a mother's young ones.

She started to make her way back, but her senses made her jump as the dragon suddenly snorted, a flame escaping from its maw. She was almost caught by it but she managed to jump out on time to prevent it from catching the back of her skirt. It would have burned away the protection of her rear if she hadn't done so. She did notice some embers sticking to her legs, which she quickly put out with a wordless water spell.

She imagined that the male audience would have loved to see the spectacle.

' _I am sorry, but only Harry gets to see that,'_ she thought before leaving the enclosure.

Fleur quickly looked over at the judges. They were the three headmasters: Madame Maxime, Dumbledore, and Karkaroff, along with Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch, she silently waited for her score.

Madame Maxime was the first. The giantess raised her hand into the air and shot out a silver ribbon that formed into the figure nine. Cheers exploded from the audience, especially from Beauxbatons, she saw her friends were the loudest screamers in the crowd.

She watched as Mr. Crouch shot his score out next, an eight. Dumbledore eyes twinkled as he revealed his own score – nine. Cheers once again rang out.

Ludo Bagman shot his score into the air – eight. Loud claps filled the makeshift stadium. The only one left was the mean-looking Karkaroff. With a look of contempt, he raised his wand and the ribbon formed a number five. Fleur heard boos erupt from the audience that were jeering the Durmstrang headmaster.

She didn't reduce herself to the crowd's level, she simply bowed and made her way back to the medical tent. Thirty-nine points, it was a good score.

Cheers exploded as soon as she managed to leave, she imagined that they had also been entranced by the sight of her particularly strong and unrestrained allure. She was immediately taken back to where the woman who had examined her after her ordeal with the Slytherin students. Harry had called her Madam Pomfrey.

"Eet's fine, Madame. I did not get 'urt during ze task," she assured the mothering woman but she was adamant.

"Be that as it may, Ms. Delacour, I am in charge here and champions do not leave until I am satisfied with their condition," she stated, her wand waving around her body, running diagnosis spells to test any anomalies that Fleur might be suffering.

Fleur soon heard the whistle again, meaning that Krum would be taking the task next. She was a little anxious, she wanted to be on time to see Harry perform his task. The young Veela was greatly worried about how he would perform against the most dangerous of all the dragons.

Once Madame Maxime was satisfied, she let her go. Fleur quickly made her way to see the enclosure, just in time to see Krum strike his dragon with the Conjunctivitis Curse right into its eye. She grimaced at the savage brutality that the Bulgarian champion had chosen as a strategy, especially when the pain caused the scarlet reptile to stomp on half of her eggs.

The task done, Krum waited to receive his score from the judges.

In the end he gained forty points, largely due to the bias of Igor Karkaroff, who had granted his student with a perfect ten. Not even Madame Maxime had shown such blatant favoritism. Cedric Diggory had scored thirty-eight points, the lowest yet. She herself had thirty-nine. Krum had the lead in the Tournament, she just had to wait for Harry to finish his test.

It did not take long for the nervousness to appear in her stomach, the sight alone of the mean looking dragon was enough for her breath to start quickening. It took every single dragon keeper to even be able to force the violent reptile into the enclosure. Fire was already spewing from her mouth, hatred shining in her bright yellow eyes.

With barely bated anticipation she heard the loud whistle scream, signaling that it was time for her dominant to enter the enclosure for his task. He saw the black dragon Potter banner flying where Harry was meant to appear, the boos from the crowd mocking the final champion. The champion that she was now so worried about.

All she could do was sit down and wait. Her hand once again tracing under her scarf, touching the collar like a holy object, wishing for the best.

* * *

Harry closed his eyes and gave one final breath before he too stepped away from the tent, and slowly started to make his way to the enclosure.

The Hungarian Horntail was massive, she seemed even larger than when he saw her a few days ago. Hesitation coursed through his veins momentarily, but it was quashed almost immediately as he started to remember the relaxation techniques from Master Zheng.

He raised his wand in the air.

" **Accio Firebolt!"** he proclaimed and waited for his trusty broom to appear. In the meantime, he started to gather enough magical power to cast the next crucial spell for his plan.

" **Expecto Patronum!"** he said a lot louder, so much that he imagined that all the crowd managed to hear.

From the tip of his wand came the light that would eventually form into his corporeal Patronus. This time, however, it was big – a lot bigger than before.

"Look at the size of that thing! In all my years ladies and gentlemen, I have never seen such a corporeal  **Patronus** that big! Why it's almost as big as the Horntail! Cast by a fourth year no less!" he heard Bagman yell out loudly.

Indeed, his Patronus was now as big as the Horntail. The Iceni Black was known to be bigger, but he doubted he had the magical power in him to fully recreate what that breed of dragon looked like. It was still enough to satisfy him.

He quickly saw the Firebolt quickly flying towards him. By now the Horntail was fuming at the rival, fire spewing from it's mouth in hate, almost ready to let forth a stream of blazing inferno at him. He quickly mounted the broom and made his way into the air, right behind the Patronus' mouth.

"By Merlin, he can fly! What does Mr. Potter have planned next?!" exclaimed Bagman excitedly.

Harry's plan was simple yet elaborate enough so that he may have little chance of failure. Now that a rival dragon had appeared, he needed to make sure the Horntail was more interested in the bright Iceni Black, rather than him. In order to do so, he needed to provoke it.

Now that he was behind the ethereal apparition, the emerald-eyed wizard was able to put his plan into action. Raising his wand, he put a large amount of his magical power into the Stinging Hex he proceeded to cast straight into the Horntail's gaping maw.

It had the effect he reluctantly desired. She was pissed alright – mighty pissed. So much that she barely restrained herself and let loose a blazing red torrent to the direction of the Patronus much sooner than he had anticipated. Without thinking, he raised his wand again and cast another spell.

" **Aguamenti Maxima!"**

A large amount of water sprouted from his wand, in the eyes of the Horntail, it would have looked as though the water had come out from Iceni Black's jaws. The water clashed with the fire, canceling each other out in a surge of hot steam.

There was one key difference aside from size that made the Iceni Black the most dangerous of the dragon breeds, that being its intelligence. The Horntail was strong, aggressive, and powerful, but it did not have the cunning and resourcefulness of the Iceni Black. Such a flaw was now demonstrated, as the Horntail fully launched itself against the fake dragon with abandon, it's chains straining against

The raven-haired wizard took this chance. Harry quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and made his way past the now distracted Horntail, heading directly for the now ignored nest of eggs. He quickly spotted the golden egg and snatched it thanks to his finely-honed seeker abilities.

The crowd that had been booing him before was now exploding in deafening cheers. Even Fleur had not elicited such a response.

Speaking of which…

His eyes suddenly found Fleur's, she was also clapping. There were tears of worry trailing down her cheeks but sported a large smile.

"I cannot believe it! Such magical prowess! Such flying ability! By Merlin, I don't think I have ever seen something like this in all my years! Did you watch him, Mr. Krum?!" yelled Bagman as the cheers started to get louder.

The Horntail was still not calming down. Suddenly, every keeper made their way over to the dragon, the Patronus was thankfully still distracting it enough so that they might start to control it. It took them about five full minutes for them to subdue the raging black dragon. Harry made sure to release the giant Patronus as they finished, panting heavily at the amount of magic he had used.

He finally landed to safety, several figures made their way to him.

"Mr. Potter, that was excellent!" cried Professor McGonagall. "What were you thinking?! Provoking such a beast in that way. It's a miracle you were not burned to a crisp! Now go over to Madam Pomfrey," she reprimanded once her initial enthusiasm died down.

"Yeh did it, Harry!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' – "

"Thanks, Hagrid," said Harry loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry the dragons beforehand.

Sirius went over to give him a bone crushing hug.

"Amazing! Amazing! James would be so proud!"

McGonagall led him away to the medical tent, where Cedric was still being attended by Pomfrey.

"Dragons!" said Pomfrey in a disgusted tone. "What were they thinking, bringing dragons into this school? Sit down, Mr. Potter – you'll get your score after I'm done and not a moment later!"

Entering the tent however, he found out he did not wish to sit down. He wanted to go immediately to Fleur. Before he had the chance to leave however, a brown-haired missile came crashing towards him in a bone-breaking hug – Hermione.

"Oh god Harry, you were brilliant!" she exclaimed. Tears were still coming out from her eyes, a sign of how worried she had been. "I am sorry! Sorry I for whatever I did to you! Please, I want to be your friend again, Harry! I don't care about anything else!"

Harry simply returned the hug, watching behind her as Ron also appeared, looking like he was also about to say something. He even watched as he opened his mouth to speak but before any words could come out, he was distracted by Fleur making her way inside the tent.

Hermione pulled away from the hug to see the French beauty standing beside her. Harry saw her mouth plop open a little as Fleur suddenly embraced him. Her hug was far softer than Hermione's, he took in a moment to inhale her flowery scent.

He was so entranced by her that he barely noticed Ron give out a small glare before storming off. Hermione looked at the scene with amazement, but she still stayed in her place rather than leave like the male Weasley had.

"Hermione," Harry said once he and Fleur stopped embracing each other. "Um – this is Fleur, Fleur Delacour. Fleur, this is Hermione Granger"

Hermione finally snapped from her tranced state. "Oh – well, uhh… nice to meet you Fleur," she finally managed to get out.

"Nice to meet you, 'Ermione," answered Fleur, her hand still placed on top of Harry's shoulder.

"Umm – I don't mean to pry but are you two… you know?" she asked with trepidation.

"Yes," he said, drawing a smile form Fleur.

"I see… that's great, Harry – "

"I accept," he finally told her, drawing a confused look from the brown-haired witch. "Your apology – I accept. It's been a long time since I've been able to talk to my best friend."

Harry saw a smile finally reach Hermione. She nodded happily. "Thank you, Harry! Don't forget to go for your score, you were brilliant – better than the re – uhh," she then looked over at Fleur with anxiety.

The French champion simply smiled. "She is right 'Arry, you were ze best. Eet was magnificent! You deserve ze biggest score."

After Madam Pomfrey was done with him, he went with Fleur over to see the judges. He noticed that the crowd, who had been jeering him earlier, was now letting out a deafening roar at his sight, Fleur and Hermione besides him.

He waited first for Madame Maxime, who raised her wand and shot out her silver ribbon – nine. Harry was surprised at the high score and nodded towards the giantess. He noticed that she had a smile, something that Fleur also seemed to have.

Mr. Crouch came up next. He shot a number nine into the air.

"You're doing great Harry," said Hermione, who was suddenly behind him.

Next came Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. Harry listened to the cheers of the crowd, he could barely listen to the congratulations from Fleur besides him.

Ludo Bagman almost jumped from his seat when he shot out a number ten from his wand. The cheers threatened to make him deaf at the score. Finally, there was Karkaroff, who raised his wand and revealed a number four.

" _What!?"_ cried Hermione indignantly. "Can that man even give a fair score? He also gave Fleur and Cedric bad scores and gave Krum a ten!"

"Eet doesn't matter, 'Arry – you 'ave forty-one points! You are in first place!" revealed Fleur.

" _First place?!"_ exclaimed Harry.

Fleur giggled. "You are number one. Cedric 'as thirty-eight points. Zen zere is  _moi_ , wiz thirty-nine points. Krum 'as forty, you 'ave forty-one."

Harry saw Charlie Weasley come over to him. "Congratulations Harry… first place! Merlin, I have to tell Mum. See you later mate. Oh yeah – I forgot to tell the both of you… Bagman wants a word; you and Fleur need to go back to the champion's tent."

Harry said his goodbye to Hermione before he and Fleur made their way back to the large tent. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Ron looking over in jealousy and hatred. There was little hiding it now. Hermione knew that he and Fleur were at least going out together. He imagined that he would be getting a lot of hate from some of the older guys back at the castle.

Not to mention what he was doing to her in private.

Entering the tent. Harry saw Krum and Cedric already were inside, the Hufflepuff had the left side of his face plastered with thick orange paste, presumably because of his burn. He smiled at both Harry and Fleur as they entered.

"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth — but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open . . . see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg — because it will tell you what the second task is and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Harry and Fleur said their goodbyes to Cedric and Krum before stepping out of the tent. Noticing that it was now empty outside. They were alone.

"So… I am wiz you now?" asked Fleur coyly.

Harry smiled. "I guess you are – that is, if you want to."

Fleur smiled. "I am yours already 'Arry. Of course, I want to be wiz you," she said before both their lips met.

Harry had kissed Fleur before, but they had been quick and unexpected. This was something completely different, the Potter heir embraced the silver-haired witch, closing his eyes as they both parted their lips to explore each other. There was no way to express how he felt, no way to put into words how soft her lips were, how wonderfully she tasted. It was simply magnificent.

Fleur finally ended the kiss. "Will you do me a favor,  _mon chéri_?" she asked. Harry felt his heart melt upon hearing those words.

"Anything."

"Can I sleep wiz you tonight? Eet's so cold when I am in bed alone now."

Harry smiled. "Whenever you want, beautiful."

**AN: Song recommendation for the chapter is "Into the Fire" by Sabaton, from their 2005 debut album "Primo Victoria". This chapter is not about napalm strikes in 'Nam, but it'll do.**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed the fast update, because the next one will be taking some time. I will be going to a metal festival and will be away from my city the whole week. So, I will be unable to write anything during that time. I hope I can do the Yule Ball the next chapter, but I will have to see what I come up with. It will probably end up being a long chapter since I plan for another "session" as well.**

**I will admit to the fact that some of you might be thinking that Harry is a little overpowered in this chapter, but I really want him to be a lot more adept at magic than he was in canon. Fleur is not someone that will go out with anyone, especially not someone as mediocre as canon Harry.**

**Even then, Harry is still not as powerful as Voldemort, so it isn't like he's going to destroy the Dark Lord as soon as he's brought back but he's definitely a lot more powerful that canon.**

**Very little BDSM stuff this chapter, except for Fleur willingly wearing her collar and realizing that she relaxes immensely and becomes more powerful when she is submitting to Harry. I do have some plans cooked up for next chapter. Not to tease but… punishment time. She's been a naughty girl and she still hasn't had a lesson taught to her.**

**Well then, how did you like the chapter? Did you like how the First Task turned out? Review away.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage.**


	10. B.A.D.

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Well, I'm back with another chapter. Took a little longer, but the chapter is longer as well. Not to mention that I spent a week away from home for that metal festival and came back absolutely exhausted and drowning in schoolwork, but I finally managed to get it to you guys.**

**I would like to extend my thanks to Hassassain696 for being the beta for this story and SlythrInHermione for helping with early chapters. Also, to thank Smutley Do-Wrong and red demon161 for bouncing ideas with me for the story.**

**Finally, I would like to thank all of you for the success of the story. We are now officially over 100k words and are now over 2k follows. That's absolutely insane and I can only thank you for taking such an interest in this fic.**

**Enjoy!**

"Dialogue"

' _Thoughts'_

" _Foreign Language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter IX: B.A.D.**

Harry watched as Fleur walked back to her carriage to celebrate her own victory with her friends, not to mention Madame Maxime would also want to have a word. His now-girlfriend had promised that she would be back to the castle by night, in order to spend the night with him.

He was about to return to his room until his girlfriend came back during the night to spend it with him but upon arriving at the entrance to the castle, he was approached by familiar faces. Faces that sported robes in red and gold.

"Hey Harry, how are you?" said Dean Thomas with a small uncomfortable smile.

"Thomas," responded Harry in a monotone voice. "Pretty good… considering I just went against a giant fire-spewing lizard. What about you?"

"We've been… look what we are trying to – "

"We're sorry mate," finished Seamus Finnigan.

Harry simply looked at them without a single trace of emotion, soulless eyes pierced into theirs, making them more uncomfortable by the second.

"You're… sorry," he finally responded.

"Yeah mate… no other way to say it. We're sorry – we really are! All of Gryffindor is too!" insisted Dean.

The Potter heir did not say a word, content with just staring at the duo as they stood nervously before him. They were sorry now? After he had insisted upon them that he had not put his name on the Goblet for almost a month?

' _You're going to have to come up with something better than that!'_ he thought angrily

He was about to respond until two other figures joined Dean and Seamus, two who were a lot closer to him than either of the male Gryffindor.

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione as she gave him one of her trademark hugs. "You get anything useful from Bagman?"

"Hermione! Err – I did," Harry responded as soon as he regained his breath.

Both separated just in time for Neville to offer his hand nervously to the raven-haired Gryffindor.

"Hey Harry… you were great you know. I can't imagine anyone doing better than you. Even the seventh years were in awe at the power with which you were casting those spells," he said, before taking an even more nervous composure. "Although many of the guys were glaring once you came out with the Beauxbatons champion… I think they're jealous you two might be… you know…"

' _Let them be jealous,'_  thought Harry before smiling at his friend.

"Thank you, Nev," he then turned to the rest of his gold and red classmates. "So… let's cut to the chase. You're sorry, but why should I accept your apology exactly? I'm not fighting for Gryffindor, I'm fighting for my family name. I'm not even sleeping in the Gryffindor Tower anymore."

Harry observed as his four housemates before continuing. "So why should I accept your apology and go back to the way things were? I seem to be doing fine all by myself."

Dean was the one to answer.

"Look… Harry… we're sorry. We really want patch things up with you, like Hermione just did. Can you just come back to the tower with us? We're not asking you to stay, just to hear us," said the dark-skinned boy with a pleading tone.

Harry thought about it for a moment. Gryffindor House had betrayed him, left him alone. If it was not Neville, he would have been completely cut out from Godric's House completely. Why should he forgive them?

Ye the more reasonable side of Harry thought differently. Maybe they did deserve just another chance, but it should be made completely clear that he would never forget the treason they had perpetrated for an entire month.

"Very well… I'll hear you out. Just be clear that I'm not making any promises to forgive you," warned Harry.

It was enough to relieve Dean and Seamus, who started to make their way up to the Gryffindor tower with Harry in tow.

It had been quite some time since the Potter heir had traversed beyond the portrait of the Fat Lady into the furnished common room. He almost expected to see everything completely change from the last time he had been there. He never really had the chance to see, since the place was completely crowded with what seemed to be the entire House in it's totally, from the first years all the way to the seventh years.

Cheers exploded the moment he emerged from the doorway. This sight made his heart warm in need but restrained himself to having a neutral look plastered on his mug until the commotion died out and the room regained its composure.

That's when the silence started. All of them stared at Harry in anticipation of what he might say.

"So… this is your answer," said Harry to the entire room. "This is you answer to essentially blacklisting me for almost an entire month. A party…."

"Harry, please," Hermione whispered desperately as she grabbed his hand discreetly. The rest of the room looked really uneasy as well, the previous jubilation having disappeared completely.

Harry took a small moment before continuing.

"I will say this one last time. Forgiveness is sometimes easily given but rarely earned. Forgetting is even more difficult. We are supposed to be a house of Lions who will protect their own when in times of turmoil. Instead, you acted like a bunch of sheep that were willing to believe any facetious rumor that was said about me – from Slytherin of all places!"

The rogue Gryffindor took a small breath before continuing.

"So I will say this. I am willing to forgive you if you promise to never do something like this again. But I will not forget this anytime soon, that is a wound that will take more than words to heal, and it will still leave an ugly scar in the end. Never leave your own to die again or you will regret it," said Harry with a tone of finality.

Mumbles of understanding reigned the room before the entire place seemed to relax after a few seconds once Harry picked one of the offered cups of Pumpkin juice. If there was any evidence of the tension that had been present before, it was gone once the celebration party really started to go into full swing.

It was definitely nice to see his old friends so approachable once again. He took a moment to talk with the Quidditch team who wanted to congratulate him on the maneuvers he pulled against the Horntail. Then took a detour to answer some of the questions the older years were asking him about the Patronus Charm. Finally, he sat down to talk with Neville and Hermione until Seamus decided to ask the one question that he knew was coming yet was dreading.

"So, Harry… is it true?" asked Seamus as the whole common room started to become more silent with each passing second.

Harry knew exactly what they were talking about, but still feigned ignorance.

"True? About what?"

Seamus then gave him a mischievous look.

"Y'know – about you and that Veela lass."

The entire room was silent now, looking directly at Harry in order to get the answer to the much-pondered rumor that had been circulating around the castle for the last month. Taking a quick survey of his surroundings, his fellow housemates. The older students looked on expectantly. On one corner Ron was beginning to twist his face into a glare, besides him was Ginny, who was also starting to frown. At his side, Hermione looked on with a gaze that seemed to portray regret and melancholy.

This was it, Harry realized. This was the moment that he could stake his claim on the young woman that had become so important to his very existence. They would be angry, jealous, they might not understand, but Harry would not care. He and Fleur understood, and that was enough.

"Her name is Fleur Delacour… and we are together," Harry confirmed.

Murmurs exploded throughout the room. The sixth and seventh years could no longer keep the glares off their faces. Same with Ron, whose entire face was now red. Ginny's was of a similar color, Harry doubted the he had ever seen the youngest Weasley look that angry before.

"Merlin Harry… how'd you score with her?" asked Dean, who this year had started to get a 'playboy' image by trying to get with Lavender Brown.

"That's for me to know and for you to try and guess unsuccessfully, Dean," answered Harry.

"How long have you been together?" questioned Lavender, Hogwarts' very own gossip queen.

"Officially," Harry took a quick look at his watch, "around two hours give or take."

"You are one lucky bastard, you know that?" piped in one of the fifth years

"Only fitting that House  _Potter_  gets all the luck," commented Ron with barely concealed contempt.

Harry took a small moment to contemplate the redheaded boy. He had hoped that Ron would've changed his tune along with the rest of Gryffindor, but it seemed that the jealousy was too much for the both of them to truly reconcile.

It mattered little, despite Harry knowing Ron for over four years, if he had to choose between the redhead and Fleur, he would choose his new girlfriend without question.

Other than the new glares of jealousy he received from some of the students, the rest of the parry went without consequences. He spent most of his time getting reacquainted with Hermione. Out of all the people who had stopped talking to the raven-haired wizard, Hermione was the one he definitely missed the most.

"I promise to never doubt you again, Harry," said Hermione as the party dragged into it's last minutes. Most Gryffindors had already passed out from smuggled firewhisky or had gone to sleep by this point.

"Why did we ever grow apart?" asked Harry once Neville had stepped away to call it a night. "We were together forever and then we drifted apart."

Hermione stared away for a few moment, deep in thought. Harry imagined that she was trying to find the correct words to respond to such a difficult question.

"I couldn't take it, Harry," she confessed. "After our first year, you started to rise in grades… slowly but surely you started to surpass me. I felt I wasn't needed anymore," Hermione then started to moisten as she looked at Harry in the eyes. "I'm not very social, not many people like me, I'm not pretty, I'm no good at sports or parties… but I have my brain… it's the only thing I have…"

Tears were now tracking down the bushy-haired girl's cheeks as she continued to let open up three years of frustrations.

"But you were better than me at magic… the one thing I thought I was the best at… you were better. I felt that you didn't need me anymore, that you would throw me away like a used towel. I couldn't bear the thought of that… so, I left you and started to hang out with Ron. He would always need me, he'd fail if I wasn't there…"

Hermione then truly started to cry in his shoulder. The only thing that Harry could do was wrap his arms around his best friend in a tight hug until the girl could let out all of her grief.

"Hermione," Harry finally responded once they were looking at each other's eyes once again. "You are a brilliant witch. One of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts," she blushed a little at the compliment, "people don't like you because they are jealous of you… because you are better than them. It's true that you don't like sports or parties but that doesn't matter because the things you are good at, you excel beyond almost anyone. More than anything… you are the best friend I could ever hope for. I will always need you at my side."

The tears in Hermione's eyes turned from sorrowful to ones filled with happiness as they both embraced one last time.

"Don't let anything come between us like this again," said Harry.

Hermione nodded with a small laugh. "If you need anything… don't hesitate to ask Harry… anything."

The dark-haired wizard took his time saying his goodbyes before leaving the tower and going down the stairs to the fourth floor. It had been a long day and definitely needed the rest.

Upon entering his room however, he spied a very exhausted Fleur sleeping on the bed, the same angelic appearance that she had when they had slept together. Harry couldn't help the small smile of happiness that formed on his lips.

Taking a quick shower before putting on his nightclothes, the green-eyed wizard crawled besides the French beauty and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Sirius laughed as he saw Remus fall back after being stunned by Harry's surprise counter. The Black Lord's godson been getting better and better in their little dueling sessions. Soon enough he and Remus would have to start teaching him more powerful spells.

The dog Animagus looked at Harry's triumphant grin and a mischievous smile formed on his own face. Sirius raised his own wand and pointed it at Harry's.

" **Expelliarmus**!" he yelled and watched as his godson's wand was flung to the other side of the room.

"What the hell was that, Sirius!" yelled Harry as Sirius continued to smile.

"What do you mean Harry? I was disarming you. You lost," the Black Lord said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Last time I checked, I was dueling Remus, not you," countered Harry. "You acted unfairly."

Sirius then lost his amused demeanor and looked at Harry seriously.

"You're right. You were  _dueling_  Remus.  _Dueling…"_ he paused for a little to gain his godson's attention, "… is not fighting."

Sirius waited for a little as Harry made his way to the back of the room to retrieve the phoenix feather core wand. Once he returned, the Black Lord continued.

"I acted unfairly because the is no such thing as  _fairness_  when it comes to  _fighting_ , Harry," continued Sirius. "In a fight, your opponent won't wait until you're prepared, he will strike! Your opponent won't announce himself if he's hidden, he will strike! Your opponent won't limit himself to some arbitrary rules, He. Will. Strike!"

Sirius quickly sent a quick spell at Harry and watched as it made his godson fly a meter before landing on his back. It was harsh, he knew that, but it was better for James' son to learn these lessons now rather than later.

He was never told these things when he was at Hogwarts and received only a quick education as an Auror before he was sent to the frontlines. It was so different from dueling, there was absolutely not mercy, no clear distinction between friend and foe, no clarity. Real fights are chaos and if Harry was to survive, he needed to be taught those harsh lessons.

"Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry nodded slowly from his place at the ground.

"I do have some experience with fighting, Sirius."

The Animagus let a small chuckle escape him as he remembered the anecdote that occurred a few weeks ago between Harry and the Slytherins.

"Right… and what did saving your girlfriend teach you?" asked Sirius, amused at the flush that colored Harry's complexion.

"They all attacked at once, I had no chance to fight each of them fairly," answered Harry.

Sirius nodded. "That's right, it wasn't fair.  _That_ … is a true fight."

The Black lord watched as his emerald-eyed godson stood up with a small grimace. Harry took a moment to regain his bearing before staring back at him with determination.

"Very well then, Padfoot. Teach me how to  _fight_!" demanded Harry.

Godfather and godson started to trade spells against one another. All restraint was gone as they both started to trade spells against one another. Sirius saw as with each consecutive spell, Harry shortened the distance between the two of them. The younger wizard was quick, very good at blocking when he needed to and attacking whenever he had the opportunity.

Sirius felt his defenses weakening at the brutal assault from Harry's immensely strong magic, but his experience still made up for Harry's raw power, sidestepping several spells and blocking only when it was unavoidable. His godson's advance disappeared as Sirius retreated back to a safe distance.

Then – out of nowhere – Harry released raised his wand and aimed it directly at his eyes for a second and shouted a spell he had never even heard about.

" **Caeculux!** "

From the tip of Harry's wand, a blinding flash of light appeared in front of Sirius. The effect was immediate, he felt as if his eyes were burning. So unexpected was the attack that he instinctively shut his eyes and covered them with his arms.

The next thing Sirius felt was his godson quickly grabbing him by the wand arm and slamming him chest first to the ground, his arm twisted behind him.

"Argh!" cried Sirius in more surprise than pain.

"Yield!" demanded Harry with authority.

"I yield! I yield!" he yelled until he felt the pressure being relieved once Harry let go of his arm.

Sirius slowly turned himself until he was lying on his back, staring at Harry.

"What was that?!" he asked while panting.

Harry looked at him in the eye for a few intense seconds.

"Fighting," he responded, before offering a hand to help his godfather get back on his feet.

' _James… Lily… your boy is so strong… you would be proud of him.'_

"We'll need to step up your training," said Remus, who had also recovered from his previous fight with Harry.

Sirius felt his sense of humor return suddenly. He really needed to tease Harry in order to feel better about his loss now.

"Right… after we take him shopping of course."

Harry gazed at both of them with confusion.

"Shopping? For what?"

* * *

"Potter! Greengrass! Will you pay  _attention?_!"

Harry finally took a moment from teasing Daphne in order to listen to McGonagall announcement. He had finished the activity in his first try. Teased the violet-eyed girl besides him for the rest of the class for all she was worth and was now waiting until the class ended so he might go eat some lunch and hopefully spend the rest of the day with Fleur.

His girlfriend – it seemed to be the most appropriate term for Fleur – had unofficially moved in with him a week ago and now spent their nights sleeping together. There was still nothing overtly sexual between the two, but Fleur choice of clothing had been getting increasingly scandalous each night, culminating last night when she wore a  _very_  thin pure white negligee to bed.

"All my ozzer clozes are dirty, I 'aven't 'ad ze chance to clean zem." That had been her excuse.

"Why would you even bring something like this over to Hogwarts? It hardly seems like appropriate clothing for Scottish winter nights," he had told Fleur. "Don't you always complain about how cold it is here?"

Fleur's eyes danced with mischief while she snuggled with him under the covers.

"Not when my  _Maître_ , ees 'ere to keep me warm and safe. You will be zere to keep your Fleur safe,  _oui?_ "

McGonagall's voice pulled him from his memories as she started to make the announcement.

"Very well, now that we are all paying attention, I have something to tell all of you. Be assured that all the houses will be informed as well," she said in her usual no-nonsense tone.

"The Yule Ball is approaching – a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament and opportunity to mingle with our foreign guests – only fourth to seventh years are allowed, but younger students can if an older student chooses them as their partners."

An eruption of giggles from the female population – with the exception of Hermione and Daphne, of course – was heard across the classroom, each of them already looking around for a potential target. Harry did notice some looks being thrown their way.

' _Partners? Well, I already know who to ask then.'_

"Dress robes will be worn," McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall."

Professor McGonagall started at the Gryffindors and Slytherins that were for once paying rapt attention to her.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to – er – let our hair down," she said disapprovingly.

That did not seem to disturb Parvati and Lavender, who were no giggling. Harry saw Hermione besides him looking with the same air discontent as McGonagall. Daphne – who was at his left side – shared the similar opinion.

Harry's smile got more pronounced as he stared at the violet-eyed girl, which she apparently caught.

"Don't even think about it, Potter!" she whispered, but all menace was gone thanks to the blush spread across her cheeks

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry Daph, I saw you spying Gregory over there for a chance with him. I wouldn't put you in a situation where I would jeopardize your chances of becoming the next Lady Goyle."

Daphne glared at him before huffing and turning her gaze the other way.

"But that does  _not_  mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most displeased if a student embarrasses the school in any way – no matter the house they come from!"

The bell rang at that moment and the students started to puck their bags so they might go for some much-needed food.

Professor McGonagall called from above the noise. "Potter – a word, if you please."

"Alright professor. What do you need?"

"Mr. Potter, who are you thinking of going with to the ball?" she asked bluntly.

"I thought this was voluntary?" responded Harry

"Not for champions. They are expected to initiate the ceremony  _along_ with their  _partners_ ," she responded.

"Are we allowed to invite students from other schools?" asked Harry.

Professor McGonagall looked at him for a moment before saying, "There's nothing against it that I'm aware of."

Harry smiled. "Then I know exactly who to ask."

McGonagall looked at him disapprovingly. She was probably expecting him to invite Hermione or maybe another Gryffindor, but she would be in for a surprise when he went with Fleur.

It was when he arrived at the Great Hall that Harry was made aware of just how little time it had taken for the information of the Yule Ball to spread across the entire castle. More importantly, he had been made aware of just how many people had approached Fleur in such a miniscule passage of time.

No less than a dozen students had already asked Fleur to be their date for the night. It was a frustrating bit of information, to be sure. Especially considering that some of those students were from Gryffindor. Harry would have understood if any other House did it, they didn't know about his and Fleur's relationship yet, but he had announced it publicly to Gryffindor just a few days ago. There was no excuse.

Particularly when one of those had been a certain Ronald Bilius Weasley.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that there would be nor reconciliation between Harry and the youngest male Weasley. At first, the Potter Heir had tried to convince himself that Ron only needed a little time to regain his senses, then it would be business as usual, but it had not been that way. Every time Harry saw Ron, it seemed as though his former friend was looking at him with more and more animosity.

Now, that same old friend was trying to snag his girlfriend away, all while fully knowing that he and Fleur where in a relationship.

' _Ronald… I swear that one of these days…'_  thought Harry angrily upon seeing the red-faced ginger sitting down, stuffing his face after being rejected by Fleur.

Well… rejected was a strong word. From what he'd heard, Ron had simply vanished after blurting out a love confession. Fleur didn't even have the chance to turn the Weasley down before he turned tail and ran.

Harry's anger increased even more when he saw the crowd forming around the Ravenclaw table. He knew that behind the mass of people was a very distressed Fleur, more than likely turning the requests down in droves.

"Hey, Harry," came a voice behind him. Harry turned around to see Cedric coming his way, alongside him was Cho Chang. They'd probably already agreed to go accompany each other to the ball.

"Hey, Cedric," grumbled Harry, his attention still fixed to the conglomeration of people around the blue and bronze table.

"You best go on, Harry," said Cedric. "I think she's turning down the twentieth invitation at the moment," he joked while Cho laughed lightly.

"Right…" Harry said in a low tone as he marched intently to the group.

He got close enough to see Roger Davies getting on his knees, a rose on his hand, and loudly proclaiming his undying love in front of the pale-haired beauty.

"This dreary castle has never seen such beauty as yourself," proclaimed Roger.

Fleur huffed. "You don't zink very of ze girls in of your school zen. 'Ow will you get a date after I refuse?"

Roger seemed to get even more nervous at the possibility of rejection. Behind him, Harry could see a large group of males looking dejected, probably the previous unsuccessful admirers. Over at the side, he saw some of the French witches giggling.

"You are a vision among mere mortals, and I am your servant," continued Roger.

Harry snorted.  _'You're all clueless, Fleur would rather be the one doing the serving than the other way around.'_

"Eef I am a vision, zen I assume I am not real?" questioned Fleur. "Zen I must say zat your chances of me accepting are also a vision." The entire congregation laughed at Roger's pitiful look before letting Fleur finish. "Step away leetle boy, I am done demeaning you.  _Mon Dieu_ , you are boring!"

Before another failed prospect had the chance to step forward, Harry made his way to the bench besides Fleur and sat confidently before grabbing Fleur by the waist and pulling her down on his lap.

"Hey, beautiful." The entire population of Hogwarts seemed to go quiet, including a glaring Roger. "You got your dress ready? I can't wait to see it when we go together."

Roger finally managed to get a few words out. "Potter! What are you doing?! Step awa –"

" _Oui_!" said Fleur, interrupting the Ravenclaw's protests. " _Mama_ said she 'as bought eet. You'll get to see eet when we go to ze ball  _togezzer,_ " she emphasized the last word to the crowd.

The congregation seemed once again mute, interrupted only by looks of jealousy from the wizards who were looking at him. Oddly enough, he noted that some glares were also sent at Fleur by several witches. From the corner of his eye he noted that Daphne was one of those. Luna – who Harry noted was sitting beside them – seemed to be the only one that was smiling… at both of them... with a look that seemed to imply attraction.

All at once, the crowd exploded into a flurry of questions. One after another. So fast were they that Harry did not even have the chance to listen to one, let alone answer it even if he wanted to.

"Silence!" shouted a rough voice. The crowd separated to reveal Krum as the one who shouted the command.

The Bulgarian champion looked directly at Harry and Fleur before stating, "Come with me, Tournament meeting."

The duo did not need further encouragement to get away from the gossiping mob and quickly stood up and followed the rough looking Durmstrang champion away from the Hall. They did not even leave the castle before he stopped.

"Uhh… where is this meeting taking place?" asked Harry in confusion.

Krum gave one of his barely noticeable smiles. "No meeting. Thought you needed hand," he responded gruffly.

"Zank you," said Fleur with a smile.

"You are welcome, but I do have other reason," said Krum before looking at Harry. "I wish to invite your friend to ball… er… Herm – er -Hermy –"

"Hermione?" asked Harry with a small edge on his voice. "You mean Hermione?"

" _Da,_ that is her name," stated Krum. "I thought you vould be going with her, but you already have date. I wish to know best way to approach her."

Harry felt a deeply uncomfortable with the idea of Krum taking Hermione out to the ball. Quite frankly, he would have felt the same way if anyone asked her out. Yet at the same time, he already had Fleur, his girlfriend. It would be unfair to deprive Hermione the opportunity of a good date.

"Why her, if you don't mind me asking?" questioned Harry. "You have half the school witches begging for the chance to go with you."

Krum looked at him seriously before saying, "I vould ask you same question, and the answer vould be same. I vant to go to ball vith girl that does not care about Quidditch."

' _Well… he's right about her in that case. Hermione does not care for Quidditch.'_

"Very well, if you want to approach her, you bring up Durmstrang lessons and classes. Giving her a book on spells would give you an advantage… and don't talk about Quidditch or sports," Harry said reluctantly.

Krum nodded before he started to walk away but before he could do so he was grabbed by Harry and turned around.

"And Krum… I don't need to tell you this… but if you hurt her in any way…" The Gryffindor let the threat hang for a little before Krum nodded seriously and they both left to opposite directions.

Harry and Fleur did not go back to the Hall to eat, not wanting to return to the crowd. They simply asked Dobby to bring them a meal to their room so they could celebrate the announcement of their relationship in peace.

* * *

It had been some time since Fleur had spent any large amount of time in her Beauxbatons room.

Ever since she and Harry had finished the first task, the French champion had preferred sleeping beside her  _Maître_ in Hogwarts his room rather than to return to the far more furnished yet infinitely lonelier chamber in the Beauxbatons carriage.

Something that was increasingly not going unnoticed by Madame Maxime and her friends.

It was easy to excuse not being on her room at first. "I got up early to exercise," or "I was practicing late," but it started to get harder and harder each time one of her friends knocked on her door, only to find it empty inside.

' _They're going to find out sooner or later, and I rather not tell lies. Clemence, Amelie, and Monique will be the first ones… maybe if I tell them first, they'll cover for me?'_ thought Fleur as she started to pack even more of her clothes that would later be taken to Harry's room.

She did make sure to leave some of them in her wardrobe in case someone got curious, including the exquisite dress her parents made sure to send her in preparation for the upcoming Yule Ball, specially designed in Paris.

It was silver in color, a color that seemed to glitter in the light. She had not yet shown it to Harry, Fleur wanted it to be a surprise when she finally went all out on her beauty. Her boyfriend was the only one that managed to resist her… now she really wanted to put it to the test.

The other students may be a problem, but she had no doubt her Harry would be enough to ward them off.

Suddenly, a gentle knock resounded around the room.

"Just a second!" exclaimed Fleur as she quickly tired to hide the suitcase filled with her clothes.

The source of the knocking did not follow her instructions and opened the door regardless, discovering Fleur as she was holding her luggage like a child who had been caught stealing cookies.

"Fleur?" questioned the voice of Clemence. "What are you doing?"

"Um… I – err…" stuttered Fleur, knowing that there was no way to explain her actions. "Hello Clemence. How are you today."

Clemence simply looked at her, then at the suitcase, then back at Fleur again in playful accusation. "So… I guess this answers why you have been disappearing for days at a time from the carriage."

Fleur had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"What are you doing Fleur, and why have you kept it hidden from us? I thought that we were friends?" asked the chestnut-haired girl, sounding more than a little hurt.

"I am sorry," said Fleur as connivingly as she could. "I'm really sorry… I just… I just wanted to keep it a secret from others."

"Even from your best friends?" responded Clemence, still sounding hurt.

"I know – believe me… I feel like the worst friend in the world right now, but I really don't want to start the rumor mill."

Clemence scoffed lightly. "What rumor? You are going out with 'Arry Potter or the fact that you are sleeping with him?"

"Clemence!" shouted Fleur indignantly. "It's not like that! Well… very well… it is like that – but not like that at the same time – it's…. argh!"

Clemence smiled knowingly, causing Fleur's blush to begin spreading even faster and redder.

"I'm just teasing, Fleur. Who knew you had it in you? Going out with Hogwarts most desired wizard," said the brunette. "But… how do you know he isn't like the others? You've avoided relationships with boys for so long because of your heritage, and now you move in with this one so quickly?"

Fleur looked at Clemence with a smile. " 'Arry is no boy, he's already a man. He has been able to withstand my allure – and we have so much in common!"

Clemence looked at her Veela friend mischievously. "Oh… like what?"

The French champion thought for a second about what to say. She couldn't just tell them about their shared… interests. But it did not take long to reveal the other things she liked about Harry.

"He's just like me in many ways. Have you seen the way the other witches look at him?" she asked. "He also does not become a simpleton around me… I can talk to him, enjoy my time with him and let my guard down."

"Are you sure he's not taking advantage of you? How do you know he won't take advantage of you once you let your guard down?" asked her friend.

' _Oh Clemence… if only you knew…'_ thought Fleur.  _'If he wanted to take advantage of me, he has had plenty of opportunities.'_

"I know Clemence… he might the only chance I have of finding someone?"

"Even if it's someone younger than you?" asked Clemence.

Fleur gave her playful look. "Have you seen him? Two and a half years won't matter in four years' time."

Clemence smiled. "Even so, me and the girls want to meet him first – so we know exactly who our Fleur is going out with."

Fleur was a little uncomfortable. She knew this would happen eventually. First with her friends, then her sister, and even her parents if she and Harry were going to have a long-term relationship like they wanted. They didn't need to know about their activities, but they had to know about both of them going out together.

"Very well – but don't go too hard on him! Gather the girls… I'm taking more of my clothes back to his place – and don't tell Madame! Please cover for me if she starts asking questions!" said Fleur.

She felt a little guilty about hiding the truth from her headmistress, considering all that she had done for Fleur – not to mention young Gabby – but she didn't want to jeopardize her relationship with Harry in any way possible. Madame Maxime would probably accept either way, but privacy was a luxury that the French Veela wanted to take advantage of as much as possible.

It was a few minutes after Clemence had gathered Amelie and Monique that they promptly made their way to the castle. Hogwarts classes were already over, so Harry was either training with Sirius or, hopefully, was in their room.

Fleur started to get nervous as they started to make their way to the fourth floor. Besides her Amelie Dubois was smiling, probably already formulating a series of questions she was going to ask Harry. The blonde Parisian was the most enthusiastic of their bunch, usually the first to strike conversation or come up with plans – always paying attention to Fleur's situation, of course.

Clemence Vigouroux was the oldest – about to turn eighteen – and definitely the most refined. Coming from one of the oldest families in French magical society crafted her into being as such. Monique Moreau, on the other hand, was definitely the quietest of them all, she was Muggleborn.

Even so, she was the first to give a little giggle when she said Harry's password, allowing the portrait to give them access to his room.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Clemence.

"You know… oh, wait! Of course, you don't know!" said the black-haired girl.

"Know what?" asked Fleur.

Monique just continued to giggle. "Nothing, nothing!" Fleur, however, heard the usually quiet girl whisper, "who knew Harry Potter was such a geek?"

"Whatever, let's just meet the Boy-Who-Lived… let's see what kind of man our little Fleur managed to snag for herself – shall we?" asked Amelie.

"Wait for just a minute. This is Harry's room – "

"And your room now as well if I assume correctly" commented Amelie.

Fleur blushed a little. "Y-yes – and as such, I need to ask him for permission if I can invite people."

"Isn't this  _your_  room as well, Fleur? Why should he call the shots on who gets to enter and who doesn't?" asked Clemence.

"Please!" exclaimed Fleur. "We want to keep this private and retain our trust with one another. If I bring unknown people to his room, he needs to agree to it," she continued. "Besides, he will accept anyway… he just needs to prepare, that's all."

After hearing the three girls grumble in acceptance, Fleur made her way into the room quickly.

Harry was sitting on the mahogany desk besides their bed, his head buried into a large text in complete concentration, the sound of her footsteps did make him turn his head over to Fleur, a small smile forming on his lips, just like an almost programmed one formed in hers as well.

"Hey beautiful," said Harry as he from the comfortable looking chair and made his way over to Fleur.

" _Mon chéri,"_  responded Fleur, letting herself be held by her boyfriend along with a small kiss.

"I expected you to come earlier. Did something happen?" asked Harry.

" _Oui…_  sorry 'Arry. Remebair when I said zat I would 'ave to tell my friends sooner or lateir… and my parents?" asked Fleur.

Harry nodded. "Sure. when are we meeting them?"

"Now," deadpanned Fleur.

Harry's eyes widened a little comically. She immediately felt the usually composed and calculating young man tense.

"Wha – now?!" he asked. "Your parents are here?!"

Fleur couldn't help but giggle. " _Non, non_! Not my parents, but my friends are outside. Zey questioned me when zey saw me packing and zey asked to meet you… you don't mind, do you?"

"It's fine Fleur, I'd appreciate a little warning the next time though," responded Harry, sounding just a little annoyed. "Let's just tidy up quickly."

By tidying up, Harry of course meant that they needed to hide their admittedly minimal bondage gear. Fleur quickly placed the white ropes and her collar in Harry's trunk while Harry prepared himself for a visit. The French champion did not hear her boyfriend approach until she felt the light spank on her derriere.

"Ah!" exclaimed Fleur as she turned around to face the smiling form of Harry. "What was zat for?"

Harry's gravely tone answered, "Demeaning me, your haughty attitude, asking for me to collar you mere hours before facing a dragon, teasing me every night with your choice for sleepwear, and now you put me in this situation," he said.

"I am sorry,  _Maître,"_ she responded Fleur saucily. "I did not foresee zis was going to happen right now."

"Sorry is not enough," said Harry commandingly, yet still soft enough to know he wasn't truly mad. "The way I see it, you've earned yourself quite the punishment, young lady."

Fleur put on her most seductive smile. "Oh – are you sure you are willing to punish your helpless Veela slave?"

Harry's hand's encircled Fleur's hips and pulled her to him roughly for another kiss. "Later," he said with another slap to her bottom. "Right now, we have guests to receive."

Fleur nodded before going back to the entrance and signaling her friends to come over. Harry was standing straight as they entered. He had lit the fireplace and the room was now comfortably warm enough for them to take off their winter coats.

" 'Arry, zis ees Clemence," said Fleur, signaling to the chestnut haired girl before turning her attention to the blonde one. "Amelie." She then looked over to black-haired one before finalizing, "And Monique. Girls, zis ees my… boyfriend, 'Arry Potter."

"Charmed," said Harry with a smile, taking each of their hands and kissing them lordly. "Nice to meet Fleur's best friends – she talks often and very fondly about you."

"We 'ave been waiting to finally meet ze reason for Fleur's happiness ever since we started to notice ze change," responded Clemence. "I must say, I was not expecting Fleur to form a relationship wiz an Eengleeshman, less so one as famous as yourself."

The familiar worry was starting to set in Fleur as Harry's tone changed lightly at the perceived accusation.

"Oh… is there anything wrong in that?" he drawled with a hint of annoyance.

Clemence seemed to understand that her words were taken out of context. " _Non_  – zere ees nozing wrong wiz zat, Fleur's happiness comes above all else. One of my great-great aunts married a British wizard eef I remembair correctly. Eet was a long time ago zough.  _Mama_  never told me which family ze wizard came from."

That seemed to ease the atmosphere a little bit. They all took their place at the small guest area they had. Clemence took one of the chairs and sat down elegantly, Amelie and Monique did the same on one couch, while Harry and Fleur sat on another one at the opposite side of the desk.

From then on it the mood relaxed greatly, especially when Amelie revealed she had brought a fair amount of pastries as a gift. Fleur excused herself quickly in order to brew some coffee to accompany the treats. She still managed to hear the questions thrown at Harry though.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" asked Amelie, demonstrating her lack of an accent. "I never so Fleur talking to you, from what I remember."

Harry hummed. "Well… first time we met was directly after we were selected to participate in the tournament. We were taken to a small room behind the Hall and that's when we first met, we didn't talk until later though."

"Speaking of the tournament. 'Ow exactly did you manage to get chosen? I was under the impression that nobody under seventeen was allowed to enter. Why Fleur was lucky enough to have her birthday a couple of weeks before we came here."

Fleur saw Harry's face darken a little. "I do now know how I got selected – only that I did. It's suspected that someone entered it without my consent. Dumbledore intends to find out who it was exactly, though."

Clemence then voiced her own thoughts, "Why would anyone want to get you to compete though? What would they gain from eet?"

Harry sighed tiredly before answering. "There exists a certain segment of the population that wishes that I… perished… along with my family that Halloween. Some of them just wish to see the job done."

"Ahh – we have heard the rumors," continued Amelie. "Is it true that you killed a basilisk with a pocket knife while blinded?"

Harry laughed. "Well, it was the basilisk that was blinded, and I was using a sword. I wouldn't be here if Fawkes hadn't torn off its eyes."

"Fawkes?" asked Monique.

The emerald-eyed wizard nodded. "Dumbledore's familiar. He's a phoenix. Fawkes was the one to bring the sword, he was also the one that cured me after I was bitten by the snake."

"You know, at first I didn't believe it, but after seeing you go against the Horntail, I'm willing to give more credence to the rumors," said Amelie.

Fleur came back with the coffee soon after. She took her place once again next to Harry, who embraced her with one arm as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Harry… there is one question I mean to ask you, so don't take it the wrong way," said Amelie. "What are your intentions towards Fleur?"

Fleur felt Harry tense slightly at the question. "Well… she's my girlfriend now," he responded before looking over at her with a smile. "I don't know where this will take us… but I hope our relationship continues to grow."

"Harry… you must understand," continued Amelie. "Fleur is our friend… and she has gone through a lot. More than most people will understand… she's – what I'm trying to say is that we want the best for her. She deserves it, and nothing less."

Harry was about to respond until Amelie continued. "She's kind, beautiful, and smart… and some people have wanted to take advantage of this in the past. We want her to be happy… to know that she'll be safe. We want to hear from you that you will never harm her."

Fleur felt tears creeping out from her eyes at Amelie's words. As conflicted as she was over the confrontation her friends and her boyfriend were having, the young Veela still appreciated the fact that she had such true friends to count on.

The French beauty hear Harry take a deep breath before looking at her own blue eyes directly, then he stared at all three of her friends.

"I know what you are talking about. I have seen the way everyone looks at her… and I saw what others wanted with her," he said, holding her tightly as he alluded to the attack of the Slytherin gang. "It's true, I saw her beauty at first and little else… but then I saw her, the real her, the kind and intelligent Fleur Delacour, hidden behind the allure."

Harry looked directly at Fleur's eyes, which were now openly letting out tears. They were not tears of loneliness and pain that she often shed in memories she wanted to lock away forever. Memories where she never believed her desires would come with him.

"I could never hurt her like that, and I want to see more with her. I  _want_ to experience what we can both share… together. I lead a self-centered life before I met her, only thinking of living up to my family and myself. I lost most of my friends, locked myself into a cycle of ambition and loneliness… and then she came. Now I live not only for those goals, but for what  _we_ can have together."

Fleur could barely see his face now thanks to the blur caused by the tears.

"So, you get to decide but frankly… I don't care what you think," Harry said to Amelie. "The only person whose thoughts I care about on the matter, is this magnificent woman besides me."

Fleur cleared her tears away to see her friends smile truly for the first time since they met Harry, seemingly accepting his answer.

They said their goodbyes soon after. Fleur and Harry offered to walk them back to the carriage, but they declined the offer, only asking that they have another meeting like this again soon. Harry claimed that they could go to the nearby village after Christmas.

That night, Fleur and Harry held each other tighter than ever, neither of them letting each other go until they drifted off to sleep.

' _I am not alone anymore, we have each other now. I am so happy… so happy that I met you.'_

* * *

Preparations for the Yule ball were well on their way the day after Fleur's friends had come to visit. The usual fanfare around this time of year was even greater this year than it had been other years, yet Harry gave very little thought to it.

The only thing he was thinking of was his relationship with Fleur, and the ideas he'd been having ever since yesterday during the conversation with the Beauxbatons girls.

Harry had been thinking about their dynamic. He was meant to be the dominant, Fleur wanted to be the submissive, yet out of those activities, the Potter heir always thought that Fleur had the advantage. She was attractive, intelligent, and could have any man that she wanted. In many ways he was lucky to have her, and she could always call of their relationship whenever she wanted. It was a troubling thought.

That was until last night. What he perceived about Fleur was that she was also afraid that  _he_ might go, that  _he_ would be the one to end the relationship whenever he wished to. It was certainly a powerful feeling, the fact that he had such control of their strange affair.

Harry thus needed to show Fleur that he was in control, and thus that she could relax and submit around him like she truly wanted to. He needed to get into his role, one that he had yet not taken to the depths that was necessary. They had only had one session, and when he'd tied up Fleur, she had been the one that was telling him what to do.

It was time that he made the orders, it was time to take charge.

After thinking hard on it the previous night, and most of the day, Harry thought that he had the perfect way to continue with the more… private part of their relationship.

Harry quickly checked his trunk to see if he had the required materials he would need. At the beginning of the year, he had not expected to have a partner for his desires, therefore, there was very little equipment they could truly use between them.

The collar was one thing that was already bought by him previously, along with the soft white rope. Fleur herself owned a pair of light blue handcuffs that they still hadn't used. That was it, sure there were various charms and even Transfiguration spells available, but that equipment would vanish after the effects of the spell wore off.

Their lack of equipment was something that he intended to correct soon enough, another reason for programming another session with Fleur tonight.

Still, rummaging through his belongings, Harry managed to find enough to satisfy him.

The body lotion had a more manly, minted smell to it, but with the correct knowledge in potions, managed to change it to a fruity smell that Fleur might like a little more. Then there was the medicinal cream that would be needed, pulled from his first aid kit.

He did not have much now, but it was enough for tonight.

" _Mon chéri!"_ Fleur sighed as soon as she entered the room, they embraced and gave each other the now customary kiss.

"How are you, beautiful?" asked Harry in a calm voice.

Fleur smiled. "I am well, I just 'ad a small talk wiz Madame, but I was able to keep 'er from suspecting anyzing."

"That's good," responded Harry. "Anything you need to do tonight?"

" _Non,_ I 'ave already done all ze schoolwork I need for ze week, and soon I will be on break zanks to  _Noël_."

"Very well… because I am going to get changed," announced Harry. "And I expect you to take off your uniform and stand in front of the couch until I said otherwise."

Fleur shuddered in what seemed to be excitement before uttering a quick, " _Oui, Maître._ "

The raven-haired Gryffindor went to get some of his Muggle clothes, settling for some casual wear. He supposed the fact that Fleur would be mostly exposed and he was still clothed would be enough for the dynamic.

Stepping out, he was struck the sight of the beautiful woman once again. She was pure white underwear, her uniform completely discarded. She was smiling, hands behind her back, allowing him to see the only two pieces of fabric that protected her body. Earlier in their relationship, this would be enough to make him flustered, but a couple of weeks of sleeping with the French Veela as she was clad in lingerie and skimpy nightwear was enough to make him more confident.

He made his way over to the sofa and placed a pillow on the floor. Pointing towards it he said one command.

"On your knees."

Fleur immediately complied gracefully. She did not stumble as knelt down with her hands still behind her as if they were already bound.

Harry started to circle around her, summoning the collar to his side. The leather was not the best, and it was rough, the fastenings were similar to a buckle, mass produced.

It would need to be changed as well.

Still, he fastened it around Fleur's neck, securing it with a small padlock. Harry then turned his attention towards her arms. At first, Fleur was the one that instructed him on how to properly tie her up. This time it would be different, he did no longer need guidance on how to dominate her properly.

Taking the white rope, he fastened her arms behind her back and quickly bound them together, making sure to follow the instructions Fleur had given the previous time. This time however, he also went further in tying her thumbs together as well.

"You are – ah – getting better at zis,  _Maître_ ," commented Fleur. Harry could almost feel her enthusiasm.

"Don't move just yet, beautiful," he whispered in her ear, hearing a slight shudder coming along her soft breaths.

Once he finished with her hands, he concentrated on her feet. This time, he picked out Fleur's handcuffs to do the job. The clicking sounds sealed the Veela's complete helplessness. Harry made sure that they were not tight enough, he didn't want to harm her smooth skin.

Finally, he connected the leash to the o-ring embedded in the front of the collar and left it hanging between her breasts

"Stay still and keep your eyes on the floor until I tell you otherwise," he said before going to his trunk and picked up the materials he had arranged previously.

There was the now strawberry scented body lotion and the medicinal cream. Before sitting down once again, Harry observed the sight in front of him.

There knelt Fleur, her hands behind her back, kneeling and staying perfectly still, her sight remained fixed to the ground in front of her. Harry could still see that she was trying to see from the corner of her eyes to see what was happening.

While her body was still, it could not be said for her mouth. The French beauty was biting her lips out what he assumed was anticipation and excitement.

Finally, he sat down in front of her and grabbed her leash, tugging it lightly to get her attention.

"Look at me," Harry said clearly and looked at her in her blue eyes as she did so. "How do you feel?"

"I am fine,  _Maître._ " The loss of the light mocking in the word did not go unnoticed.

"Very well. Come here…" he said, guiding the young woman to sit in his lap.

As soon as he felt her the weight settle on his right leg, he noticed that Fleur went instantly crimson. Harry had seen her blush before, but not with this degree of intensity.

He slowly started to caress her hair, trying to capture Fleur's eyes with his own. The pale-haired witch was avoiding it though, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes, as if she was ashamed of enjoying their activity so much.

"Fleur… look at me," Harry commanded, grabbing her chin softly and coercing her gaze towards him. "There's no shame here… you like this… don't you?" he asked with a small kiss.

" _Oui… Maître…_ I w-want zis… I want more of you… sorry," she stuttered.

"No need to be sorry. I want you too, I want you like this, and I will want no matter how much you want to… experiment," he consoled, his hand rubbing the small of her back reassuringly.

"Eet's just… I still don't believe zis ees real… it's like out of dream," she said with a trembling voice. "And every moment I theenk I will wake up alone again, and I have to hide what I want from everyone. Not just a Veela, but also a freak."

"Fleur… do you still think this isn't real? That I'm not real?"

Fleur finally looked at him, tears trickling down from her sapphire eyes.

"I – I'm afraid of telling you all I want. All my desires, because I do not want you to deny zem, to deny me and leave me." Tears were now spilling down. "Because I am so… 'ow do you say… fucked up."

"Fleur, listen to me," he commanded, his eyes still meeting hers. "I am not leaving you because of what you want. I am pretty fucked up as well… but that's the thing. We managed to find each other after all – and I'm not letting anything get in the way of that."

Harry kissed her softly before continuing. "I am going to show you how real this is – bend over my lap."

Fleur looked a little stunned at his command, but her eyes were covered as soon as he covered them with his discarded Gryffindor tie, leaving her blind.

Gently, Harry laid his trembling submissive across his lap, all the while making sure to caress her hair in order to calm her down.

One way or another, he was going to get to Fleur. Even if it meant a little bit of pain.

"You have been a bad girl, beautiful," he said softly. "You've been a bad girl to me, to other, to the entire world."

The black-haired wizard could feel Fleur quivering even harder below him, soft sobs emanating from the figure bound and secured across his lap.

"But most of all, Fleur," he continued, "you have been a bad girl to  _yourself_."

"Wha – "

"Quiet!" he commanded. "You hurt others with your words, including me, but the one you hurt the most is Fleur Delacour." His hands started to wander down her back, until they reached her generous behind. "You kept your desires hidden… castigating yourself for yearning what you needed… denying yourself the happiness you wanted."

He gave a slap tap on derriere. "And now I am going to punish you for it."

Harry reached for the strawberry scented lotion and took off the cap. He watched as the drizzle of clear liquid settled on his palm. He took a few seconds for the smell to settle in, noticing that Fleur seemed to calm herself in her shudders but was still tense, to say nothing of the whimpering.

Slowly but surely, Harry started to spread the cool lotion across her pert bottom. The cries seemed to stop momentarily, giving way to shocked and embarrassed gasps. He took his time, making sure that the protective liquid covered the entire area.

"I am going to spank you, beautiful." Fleur gasped at the revelation. "Ten times – and I expect you to count each and every one of them." Harry squeezed one cheek slightly, getting excited at holding such an intimate part of her in his hands. "Every time you do, you will think on how much this hurts you… because it is nothing compared to the pain you feel inside."

"Don't hold back your tears. Just let them go. Let all of yourself go. All of the pain, all of the loneliness… I am going to punish the pain away."

Harry raised his hand, palm open, and held it there for a few seconds. He could feel Fleur trembling lightly across his lap, waiting for the moment of impact. He did not do it immediately, he himself was also starting to breathe hard from the sheer exhilaration of the moment.

Finally, he brought the shuddering hand down on Fleur's slippery bum, on the left cheek. The cracking sound resonated around the room, accompanied by the pained gasp of the French submissive. Harry felt her tense as she did so.

"Ah!" Fleur gasped before settling down and apparently remembering the instructions. " _U-un!"_

Harry chuckled. "You're going to count in French?"

"Ah – is zere a problem wiz z-zat?" she asked.

"No… so long as you count them," he said, before bringing his hand down once again with another resounding  _crack_.

" _D-de-deux!"_  she cried. "Eet 'urts!"

"Shh… that's okay. I'm here, let it all out. I'm going to take care of you now… remember?"

Harry made sure to keep his hand to the meatiest part of Fleur's bottom to avoid any damage as he brought down his hand for the third time.

" _T-t-tro-trois!"_

And a fourth time.  _Crack._

" _Quatre!"_ she screamed this time, the sobs now turning to full on wailing, yet Harry knew that this pain did not come from the spanking themselves, but the feelings that he was forcing into her.

"Is this real enough Fleur?" he asked as he brought down his palm for the fifth time.

" _Cinq!"_ she bawled. "I am sorry, 'Arry – I am sorry!"

"What are you sorry for? Try saying it, Fleur. Say 'I am a bad girl'."

"I – I am a b-bad girl," she whimpered. Harry felt the resistance go away, Fleur was now limp in his lap, totally accepting of what was happening to her.

' _I finally got through to her.'_

"You've never said those words, have you? You've never heard those words being told to you, is that right?"

_Crack._

" _Six…_ I am a – ah – bad girl," she said, with more conviction.

"I am always here for you, Fleur." Harry rubbed the small of her back. "I'll be here for the bad Fleur. You don't have to be the perfect Fleur around me… let it all out," he said, bringing his palm to strike once again.

" _S-Sept –_ I am a bad girl!" she wailed. "Eet 'urts so much, 'Arry!"

"Why does it hurt, Fleur?" he asked. "It hurts because you caused yourself more pain than these hands ever could."

_Crack!_

" _Huit!"_ Fleur screamed. "I'm a b-bad g-girl!"

She was weeping now, yet her words rang with more truth than ever.

Harry's palm was also feeling sore now, but he ignored the pain in order to bring it down on this wonderful woman again.

" _Neuf –_ I a-am a bad gi-girl!"

"Yes… yes you are… but you are  _my_ bad girl… and I'm not letting go." He brought his hand down one last time, stronger than the rest. "Ever."

_CRACK!_

" _Dix!"_  Fleur shrieked. "I am a bad girl!"

There was no struggling now, only Fleur breaking down on his lap, without even the barest hint of struggling. Harry held on to her as she wept years of hidden pain away. Agony that she never told anyone about, suffering that she couldn't see.

"Is this real enough, beautiful?" he whispered as he caressed her silver hair, fingers slowly touching the long tresses softly. "Am I real enough?"

" 'Arry!" Fleur whimpered. "Please… please hold on to me…"

"Always," responded Harry.

They spent several minutes like that, Fleur still bound hand and foot with his tie covering her eyes. She kept weeping while he comforted her.

Harry hands searched for the other material he brought with him – the medicinal cream – with one hand and opened it without letting go of Fleur. He gathered some of it in his hand and started to slowly spread it across the French beauty's red derriere.

"Ah – so cold!" gasped Fleur, but Harry simply comforted her.

"Don't worry – it's cream. To prevent swelling."

"Aah," she sighed, with some relief.

Harry laughed. "It feels good, doesn't it? You like it?"

Fleur giggled a little, breaking the monotony from the weeping. " _Oui_ , eet feels – ahh – nice."

"You will not lie to me anymore, Fleur," he said. "And I won't do the same. You are a pervert… just like me. We found each other, and I won't let you go."

Fleur's melodious giggle was the only answer he needed to hear.

That night, as they once again settled with each other for the night, Harry felt that Fleur was lighter, completely eased of a burden that she didn't even know she carried. The French beauty slept more profoundly than ever.

**AN: Song recommendation is "B.A.D." once again by W.A.S.P. from their self-titled 1984 debut album. Killer band, killer album.**

**If you don't know, I also have already posted the first chapter of "Heir of the Sage", my Naruto/Marvel crossover. Check it out if you want, it is kinda different from what you are used to here, but if you like action, adventure then it's right up your alley.**

**Sorry of the delay. Like I mentioned previously, I was in a metal festival which really exhausted me. Then I focused my attention on getting the first chapter of Heir to the Sage out. Don't worry, this story is still my main priority for now.**

**Thank you for all your support you have given me, this is now one of the top 5% most followed stories on the HP section of the entire site. It really means a lot. If we keep it up, it can be one of the 1,000 most followed stories.**

**Next chapter shouldn't take that long to get out. It was originally meant as a single chapter but it got way too long. It's already half-written so it should take way less time than this one.**

**If you have any questions, leave a review or a PM.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage.**


	11. You're in Love

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Chapter 10, finally here. Hopefully the wait was more bearable this time around than the last update.**

**It took quite a while, but I finally got complaints about the whole fetish angle of the story, guess the spanking last chapter was the one that finally did it in for the negativity to flow, as well as the popularity that this fic has gained (breaking the 100k+ milestone tends to give you a hell of a lot more attention). All I will say is that I did warn you about it in the prologue, if the sexual content is too much for you, then I understand, but it doesn't mean I'm changing it to satisfy a larger audience. It started as a BDSM short story, and it's now an epic sized story with BDSM elements mixed into it when it comes to Harry's relationships. I said it then, and I'll say it now.**

**I am a firm believer that when a writer types a story he's not as passionate about, he will not only lose his or her drive to keep writing, but also deliver an inferior product, and writing fanfiction is purely a passion project, I make no money from this. With that in mind, I am writing what I want first and foremost. It does not mean that I don't take the reviews and PMs into account, as well as your ideas (which can sometimes enhance mine), it just means that I prioritize my vision first and foremost.**

**Keep in mind that this is** _**my** _ **version of Harry, and** _**my** _ **version of Fleur. Their canon counterparts are totally different. Harry was not raised like in canon, and Fleur was not as fleshed out in the books, the same can be said about Susan (who had extremely little exposure) and Daphne (of which we only got a name). For Fleur "dominating" persona in canon, it's extremely common that bedroom submissives are totally different people in a public setting. (Hence the stereotype of the control-freak CEO seeking a dominant partner in their private lives). I believe that after several very slow chapters detailing why they act the way they do, I have fully established their personalities and desires.**

**The same changes can be applied for other characters in** _**my** _ **story, be it Hermione, Tonks, or Luna, all of whom had more canon exposure but can have different motivations or experiences in this particular fic. I don't just change characters on the spot though, that's why I go to great lengths of explaining why exactly they're different. Harry was raised by Sirius, and has a hell of a lot more confidence and power, Fleur's Veela nature is expanded on further, etc.**

**With that in mind, please enjoy the chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

"Dialogue"

' _Thoughts'_

" _Foreign Language"_

**Spells**

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter X: You're in Love**

Harry Potter was panting alongside Krum as they finished their last lap that chilly December morning. Cedric had been left behind a few minutes ago, even the Hufflepuff captain's stamina had been unable to keep up with the rigorous training regimen that the champions had set out for themselves.

Sweating profusely, Harry managed to rush ahead of Krum at the last minute in order to reach the starting point first, winning their little challenge.

"I win," Harry stated, panting heavily.

Krum gave an annoyed look before replying, "Next time, ve race vith brooms. Let's see how you perform."

Harry laughed. "I don't think the result will be any different, to be completely honest."

"Arrogance vill be your downfall then," replied Krum. "You're welcome to try if you think you can beat me."

Harry looked at his watch. "Some other time, maybe."

The Bulgarian gave a questioning look. "Why such a hurry. It's Sunday."

"Private matters," Harry answered simply before leaving back to the castle.

"Your French girlfriend," stated Krum assuredly. Harry did not respond to the answer.

Said private matters did in fact include his slumbering French girlfriend, who looked so peaceful when Harry woke up that he wouldn't dare wake her up for the daily morning exercise. She hadn't been sleeping well in several days, so seeing her resting was a great relief. Harry wondered if the spanking had anything to do with it.

' _Spanking. that's right, I spanked my girlfriend. I spanked Fleur Delacour… Merlin… if the school knew about what I do to her in private…'_

He knew that Hermione would probably be disappointed in him, saying that the Potter heir was being a complete pig for treating a woman like that, Fleur's approval be damned. If there was one reason why Harry stopped seeing his brown-haired friend as a potential girlfriend, it was because she would more than likely completely reject his hidden desires. Fleur did not.

Daphne would probably be scandalized, Susan would squeak and blush, same as Neville. Luna… well Luna would probably ask if she could join in… while eating pudding.

The rest of the school – including a certain Weasley male – would more than likely be jealous or incredibly judgmental. Not that he cared about what Ron thought about anymore, same with his fellow students.

As Harry arrived to his room, he was met with the sight of Fleur laying face down on the bed and still wearing her lingerie, her eyes focused on a large magical text in front of her. She was smiling, a quaint vision once he focused his eyes on the French girl's reddened behind.

The Potter heir started to approach the bed but Fleur gave him a stern look.

" _Non_. You are cold and you are sweaty. Shower first, zen you can come into bed."

Harry chuckled. "I thought this was my bed."

Fleur giggled. "Not anymore, it's  _our_  bed and  _our_  room. Seriously – take a warm bath before coming 'ere."

"You were sweating last night too, I'll have you know," said Harry.

Fleur blushed before replying, "Z-zat was different. A… 'ow do you say? A sexy kind of sweat."

Harry smirked as he took of his shirt. "Oh… and I guess my sweat isn't sexy?"

"Well, when you 'ave ze sweat I am talking about, we will see if your barbarous English body can 'ave attractive sweat," she said with a saucy tone and a flirtatious look.

Harry laughed as he entered the bathroom and gave himself a hot bath before dressing himself in his robes, preparing himself for breakfast time which would be in about an hour. Walking back to the main room, the young wizard went immediately to his girlfriend, who was still reading her book. Fleur took her eyes from the text to give him a smile

"Better?"

"Much."

Harry grinned mirthfully as he set himself down by the silver-haired Veela, taking a quick look at the beautiful ass he had spanked the previous night. It was still red from the ministrations, yet the aftercare made sure that Fleur did not suffer any bruising, no purple or yellow splotches tainted the rosy bum.

"How does it feel? Does it… hurt too much? Did I go too far?" asked Harry with great concern.

Fleur smiled at him. "I wouldn't count on being able to sit comfortably for a couple of days," she answered humorously. "But… I really liked it. I really did. It didn't just 'urt… it felt really good after a while. Emotionally, but it was also very… pleasurable to my body."

Harry had noticed that Fleur had been adapting to English a lot better these days. It was easier to understand now, but he truly liked her sexy French accent.

"Breakfast is in an hour but I wanted to talk to you about something," said Harry.

Fleur looked on curiously. "Oh, and what would you want to talk about?"

Harry trailed his fingers across Fleur's back. "Last night I became aware of how lacking we are in terms of… how should I put it… equipment."

Fleur grinned lusciously. "I know. My collar and a few ropes. Zat's all we 'ave."

"Which is why I thought I could use the holiday opportunity to seek for more things," continued Harry.

"And I guess you want my exceptionally more tasteful opinion on what you should get?"

Harry slapped her rosy butt softly, eliciting a yelp.

"Precisely," he answered while going for softer magazines he had kept, remembering that they had catalogues for several items that could be on sale. It would also help to know exactly what kind of ideas Fleur would be receptive towards.

"So, here's the deal, we go over these and you tell me what you want, alright?" asked Harry.

Fleur finally closed her text and scuttled over to see the magazines he had brought with a hint of curiosity. Harry opened the biggest one and started to flip the pages to reveal that the first ones were of women getting spanked, but some of them were being done so with paddles and other assortment of implements.

"I zink I want to get used to your palm first," commented Fleur, a hand tracing her rosy bum instinctively.

"Very well, I prefer to feel your beautiful ass with my hands," commented Harry, and daringly traced his palm over Fleur's soft derriere, which elicited a small moan.

The next few pages showed several forms of restraints. They had already experimented with ropes but there were several other forms of restraints that were a lot stricter than what they had done before. Leather and chains were quite prominent, and Fleur eyed the leather cuffs with interest.

"I could probably wear zose wizout even being restrained – just like a collar,  _non?_ " she pointed out.

Harry laughed mirthfully. "You want to wear these around the room now?"

"I could if you ordered me to,  _Maître_ ," she answered.

"Oh, so I'm the only one taking that decision now?" joked Harry. "I'm pretty sure you are wanting to do this also."

Fleur giggled. "Guilty as charged."

He flipped the pages a few more times, seeing models in several positions once again, some of which interested Fleur, such as the girl that was hogtied on a large ottoman. One that seemed to get some attention was the picture in which two women were suspended with chains by a dominant that was apparently guiding both their heads to kiss each other.

He kept of flipping through the pages until Fleur stopped him with great interest.

"Wait! Look at zat! Fleur exclaimed suddenly.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What are you looking at?"

"Zat girl… ze one on ze divan." Fleur's gaze pointed towards one of the pictures.

It did not really stand out from, in fact, there was no bondage involved at all. Just a red-haired model lying on her stomach and looking at the camera, smiling. She did make sure to show off her generous bum, but he still did not see why Fleur was so entranced by it.

"What about her?" asked Harry.

"Look at 'er clothes," answered Fleur.

Harry eyes once again looked over at the model and finally noticed it. The model was wearing what seemed to be a body suit of some sorts, very tight around her body. It covered all of it in fact, with he exception of her feet, hands and head, the shiny black material seemed to hug her entire body.

"Figures," said Harry with a small snort. "The French girl will look at the clothes."

"We 'ad to take up ze slack. Merlin knows you Eenglish and ze Germans cannot appreciate fine fashion," responded Fleur. "But look 'ow pretty it looks on 'er!" she exclaimed, bringing the topic of conversation back to the black clad girl in the magazine. "You'd like to see me in somezing like zat,  _non_ **?"**

"What's it made of though? I've never seen anything like it."

Indeed, the garment did not seem to be made of cloth, wool or cotton or any other fabric he knew of. Yoga pants were tight but did not have that kind of shine to them. These clothes seemed to almost reflect the light used to illuminate the model.

"Zat is latex," said Fleur. "Some of ze Italian and French designers 'ave started to use eet recently because of zeir tightness and 'ow zey shine. Zey originate from ze fetish scene zough. I've always wanted to try it but 'ave never 'ad ze chance."

"You've never bought it?" looking at the price tags on some of the items, he noted that they were fairly expensive, but Fleur's family was rich, surely, she had enough to buy some of the tight clothes.

"'Arry," replied Fleur, "I am barely allowed to leave my parents or bodyguards sight when I go outside ze  _Château_ , I am accompanied almost everywhere when I leave."

"Haven't you tried to transfigure them?"

Fleur looked almost insulted. "You cannot just transfigure such exquisite clothes!" she snapped. "It's just not ze same. Transfigurations wear out eventually… when you 'ave somezing like zese kinds of clothes, you want to keep zem forever,  _non?_ "

Harry kept it in mind. Looking at the catalogue, he could see the garments of many different colors. Some of them were bodysuits much like the one the model was wearing but covered both feet and hands, leaving only from the neck upwards free.

There were other, more revealing items though, like panties and bras made from the same shiny material. Outfits as well, such as a nurse or maid… a French maid.

' _How appropriate'_

In the back of his mind though, Harry started to believe that he very much would like to see Fleur in one of those outfits that seemed to almost stick to the skin.

He had barely paid any attention to the clothes the models actually wore, but now started to pay more apt attention, seeing the dominants also wearing clothes that exuded authority, while subs wore garments that further symbolized their subjugation.

Harry did not own clothes like the male doms wore, the closest thing he had were a couple of studded leather jackets like the ones his favorite musicians wore. Sirius had gifted them to him, telling him that the only thing missing was a motorcycle.

' _Maybe I need to take a quick trip to a shop this Christmas; find something… appropriate for her,'_  he thought as he continued to pay particular attention to the rubbery underwear. They were expensive, but he could afford it.

Especially for his Fleur.

He changed the page once again and Fleur went even redder at the sight.

The picture showed a caramel skinned brunette dressed in a provocative harem outfit. The picture made it seemed as if she was dancing, barely hampered by the chains that fastened her to a mean looking throne.

"Like it?" questioned Harry. "That's quite reaction this gave you."

"Um –  _oui…_  it's really nice… 'arem slave, right?" stammered Fleur.

Harry nodded. "That's right. Fashion straight from the Arabic peninsula. I wonder where they came with that ideas? Well – it  _is_ pretty warm down there."

" _Oui_ …" responded Fleur, still red.

' _Oh, I'm definitely getting one of those… chains too.'_

He changed the page once again and saw that what was left was the catalogue. Skimming over it, there were many of the shiny latex outfits that he'd seen earlier, even more underwear. Some of it was made from leather as well.

Clothes weren't all there was, however. Harry saw quite a bit of items that were meant to restrain and muffle. He was already quite familiar with seeing models wearing ball-gags, but there were other types as well. Some of them looked quite restrictive and heavy.

"I really want to see you wear one of those," he said pointing at a candy red rubber ballgag.

Fleur smiled seductively. "You don't like my voice,  _Maître_?"

"Oh, I do. Believe me. I'd just like to see you drooling around this ball… you hated when others drooled, didn't you? I wonder how Fleur Delacour would look like drooling?"

Fleur giggled. "Well, if you are going to gag me, zen I am glad it's at least wiz a fashionable gag,  _oui?_ "

Harry chuckled. "My tie seemed to do a go job to keeping you blind yesterday. How about we try it with your mouth?"

Fleur didn't respond, but the smile was enough for him. The Potter heir's attention once again focused to the kinky catalogue.

Restraints ranged from rope, to steel, even leather and latex once again. The emerald eyed wizard was quite fascinated with the arm and legbinders. Fleur seemed to be so as well, seeing a particularly expensive latex straightjacket in light blue, his girlfriend's favorite color. He definitely needed to get something like that for her.

Eventually it was getting late. Fleur had already ordered breakfast for both of them, but he needed to get to class. Fleur would probably be staying in the room; her classes being limited because her champion status and her advanced grades. Harry, being a fourth year, had no luxury of the sort.

"See you tonight?" asked Harry.

The French Veela smiled. "Of course."

* * *

Fleur adjusted herself for what seemed the dozenth time in the wooden seat of the Great Hall. She had spent the whole day practicing and taking her lessons. Thankfully she did those while standing up, which kept her sore derrière from carrying the entire weight of the French champion's upper body.

Now that she was eating, however, Fleur had to sit down in order to avoid suspicion of injury. The last thing she wanted now was for people to say she needed a physical exam that would doubtless lead to the discovery of her still red behind.

Still, the soreness was a small price to pay for the intense feelings that she had experienced when Harry had spanked her for the first time. Having been Dominque Delacour's little angel, Fleur had never been truly punished for anything, let alone physically like many parents did with their children. Going through such a humiliating event had certainly been an eye opener for the young Veela.

It had hurt at first to be sure, but after the initial pain she started to… enjoy it. Fleur could have ended the session any time she wanted by the utterance of her safe word but the emotions that were whirling during her punishment were so much that the young Veela never thought about stopping it.

Humiliation and helplessness, pain and pleasure, tension and relaxation, all of it rolled into one. It was painful, but it also felt… good. Not only emotionally but physically as well. The tingling sensations shot up all the way to her womanhood. Fleur doubted that even Harry knew what his ministrations were doing to her body.

She definitely wanted to feel those things again, maybe later when her rosy behind finally recovered. The same could be said about some of the scenes that they had seen on the magazines, Fleur's mind started to think about the possibilities on her new relationship.

Suddenly, Fleur was aware a light blonde-haired figure was skipping towards her. Her heart started to beat when she realized that it was the same girl that she and Harry had met during their first session.

The only other person which knew about their… activities.

"Hello, you are the French champion, correct?" asked the girl.

Fleur stared her down for a second before replying. " _Oui,_  I am Fleur Delacour. 'Oo are you?" she asked, wanting to act perfectly normal, like the girl before her hadn't seen her with a collar around her neck and being led by Harry.

"I am Luna Lovegood, but you can call me Luna," the younger girl said with the same dreamy voice Fleur had heard during that encounter.

Fleur looked at her for a moment. "Can I 'elp you wiz anyzing?"

"Yes, I was sent here by Madam Pomfrey, she asked me to bring you back for inspection," she answered.

The young Veela froze for a couple of seconds. "I- inspection, for what?"

"She did not say, I was only told to bring you over to her office," responded Luna, the same besotted smile framed on her lips, unmoving in complete contrast to Fleur's inner turmoil,

"V-Vairy well," Fleur said nervously, "lead ze way."

The French champion stood up to follow the blonde girl out of the Great Hall, very much aware of the usual stares of lust and want that she's used to getting. Fleur ignored them though as she trailed behind Luna, she would have gone alone but the "tour" Harry gave her did not include the Hospital Wing.

Fleur's longer legs made it easy for her to follow the skipping Luna, the Ravenclaw girl was still shorter despite her quickness. Still, Fleur managed to spy something that she had not noticed before. Luna was carrying a massive tome hugged to her chest, but the French beauty could not gaze at the title.

"You don't like it when people look at you," Luna stated confidently.

Fleur stared at the odd girl with apprehension. This was getting uncomfortable. " _…Oui_ , eet's annoying but you get used to eet as much as you may dislike it."

Luna then smiled. "You know, if you don't want them to know you are taken, you should wear your collar," she said suddenly. "There's not many people who would want to go against Harry knowing that he's your owner."

A furious crimson hue started to appear on Fleur's entire face. How could Luna state something like  _that_  so boldly? Before she responded, the French champion turned her gaze around to see if anyone managed to get that small bit of information.

"W-what do you mean?" Fleur finally asked in a timid voice. "What c-collar?"

"The one Harry was leading you around with of course. He owns you, does he not? He was helping you with the flu as I remember. Has he given you the cure yet?"

Fleur could actually  _feel_ the steam coming out from her ears by now. She could still feel the lingering effects of the "cure" on her bottom after all.

"Wha – Luna… err. I don't know what you are s-saying," she stuttered unconvincingly.

"It's easy. You would wear your collar around, that would keep others at bay. If Harry has to duel any of them, he would win. He's so powerful…" Luna swooned.

"I can't wear a collar around ze castle!" replied Fleur. "What do you zink ze ozzers would say?"

"Who cares what they would say. People already judge me, so let them. If it makes me happy, I just go for it. They call me 'Loony', but I don't care what they think. I think hiding what you really want because of some some unwritten rules is far loonier than anything," responded Luna. "I'd wear his collar gladly. Yes… that would be lovely."

"Luna…" Fleur sighed. "It doesn't work like zat. What I share wiz 'Arry… i's really personal. I don't want ozzers to know about it."

"Can I be your girlfriend?" Luna interjected, the same dreamy voice not skipping a beat at the declaration.

Fleur's brain felt like it was shutting down. She could barely start to formulate words.

"Wh-what?" the French beauty finally said. "I c-can't. I 'ave a boyfriend now. I really like 'im."

"Oh… I know about that," said Luna with the same quixotic tone. "Harry would be my boyfriend too, you see. I already asked him, but he said that he already has a girlfriend – so I asked you!" she exclaimed. "I would love to wear a collar. Let them see that I am owned by the best wizard in the school."

Fleur head started to spin once again.  _'Is she actually asking for a threesome?'_ she questioned herself incredulously.

"Luna… I don't get it. Do you like women or men?"

"Both!" chirped Luna. "Why should I choose?"

Fleur looked at her strangely. "Because you will 'ave to choose one when you – um – 'ow do you say… settle down."

Luna just smiled dreamily when she said, "Settle? Why should I settle? It's like choosing between vanilla pudding and chocolate pudding. Why can't I have both?"

"Polygamy ees immoral… and illegal!" protested Fleur.

Luna just kept on smiling. "Not in the Magical World it isn't, just rare. You should know that monogamy is the result of a Gulping Plimpy conspiracy to keep us miserable anyway."

' _This girl is impossible.'_

Fleur took a deep breath to relax herself. "Luna… can you just take me to Madame Pomfrey?"

"Alright," the blonde girl responded, "I can wait for your response later."

Luna was getting in Fleur's nerves now, she wondered if the younger blonde was doing it on purpose. If she was doing so, then she deserved some much-needed discipline.

Just for a brief second Fleur imagined witnessing the younger girl being laid across Harry's lap just like she had been last night, being disciplined by her love's hand until the blonde's lily-white skin turned red. A good spanking could do wonders to a person; the young Veela had learned that lesson well just last night.

The French beauty shook her head, vanishing the thought.

Luna would probably end up enjoying it anyway.

The two eventually arrived at the entrance to the Hospital wing. After bidding each other goodbye, Luna skipped back happily away, as if aloof to the odd conversation they've had just minutes ago.

Fleur knew something like this was coming. Much like she knew that men would still pursue her despite being taken by Harry, her boyfriend had his own share of admirers that were not too happy at the prospect of him dating the French champion.

But Luna… she did not seem jealous of the fact. Most witches would ask Harry directly, but Luna came to Fleur to ask her directly. The idea seemed to be appalling at first glance.

Polygamy. Is Harry such a good catch that witches would go as far as to accept that they need to… share… with other witches?

' _Yes… they would. He's that good. But they don't know what they're getting into. The things we both like are a connection of trust that cannot be broken and is almost impossible to forge with others.'_

But Luna seemed interested despite what she had witnessed. She'd seen the collar and probably assumed the obvious despite her innocent demeanor.

If anything, it made the younger Ravenclaw seem more curious and excited at the prospect.

"Ah, Ms. Delacour!"

Fleur snapped from her thoughts to see Madam Pomfrey standing before her.

"You wanted to see me, Madame?" she asked.

"Yes, yes – please, do come in!" Madam Pomfrey said as she led Fleur over to one of the more private office.

"What is ze reason for zis?" asked Fleur once Pomfrey closed the door behind her.

"Rules of the tournament, I'm afraid. I've been ordered to do a post task inspection to see if there are any lingering damages we may have missed after the event," responded Pomfrey.

Fleur doubted in choosing her words, finally she said, "I see, but why ees eet meant as a surprise if you are only checking for wounds?"

"We´re not just checking for wounds, dear. We are supervising if you are taking any magical enhancing supplements that are illegal," informed Pomfrey in a matter of fact tone.

Fleur bristled at the suggestion. "I am not cheating! I vowed to win zis tournament wiz my strengths!"

"Just following procedure dear. Nothing to worry about – now – please strip down to your undergarments for the examination," ordered Pomfrey.

"Um… can't you do zis wiz my clothes on?" Fleur asked nervously.

"Sorry, Ms. Delacour, I'm afraid some of the spells require no interference from any kind of fabric. Don't worry… I'm a trained professional and you I took an oath of confidentiality," responded Madam Pomfrey with a tone of finality.

Fleur nodded shakily before trembling hands started to undo her light blue school uniform starting with the top half of the outfit, she left the lower part for last, wanting to take as little clothes as possible but the healer's expectant look was dashing those hopes away.

With a sigh she started taking off her shoes, followed by her stockings until her feet were touching the cold floor. Seeing that she had no other things to take off, Fleur slowly removed her skirt, letting it fall down on the floor. The French witch hoped that Madame Pomfrey would be satisfied with only seeing the front of her body.

That was not the case, as she started to circle around while waving her wand, running diagnostic spells on her body that left her with a light tingling. Fleur froze as she circled to see her still rose-colored derriere. The same shade that her ass was painted now started to contaminate her face as she felt it heating up.

"So… I guess you've been administered this 'cure' that Ms. Lovegood was talking about," commented Pomfrey, causing Fleur's blush to get even pronounced. "I assume this was not caused by the dragon's flames… at least not the dragon I'm thinking of."

' _Damn you Harry. Couldn't you have chosen another day to punish me?'_

"Please… don't tell anyone about zis… please," pleaded Fleur, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as she turned around to look directly at the healer's eyes.

To Fleur's surprise, Madam Pomfrey gave her a reassuring smile.

"Dear… I've taken an oath to keep patient confidentiality. Nothing that happened in these walls will reach other ears. I found no traces of supplements, so I have no reason to report anything."

The French beauty nodded, relief washing away all her worries of her desires being discovered after she had spent her entire time as a teenager hiding them from the world.

"Zank you," she said. "I know zis can be… shocking, for some people – "

"Ms. Delacour, I work as the only medical professional in a castle full of hormonal teenagers – have done so for many years. Believe me, I've seen quite a bit of 'shocking' things in my days," responded Pomfrey. "He was very caring, if you must know."

"What do you mean?"

"Your… behind," said Pomfrey. "I've seen children punished by their parents that had less aftercare than that. Despite the punishment, there's not sign of serious marks or damage. He has taken extremely good care of you."

Fleur smiled.  _'I know that.'_

"Well… you're good to go. Just… please use protection if you're going even further."

Fleur's cheeks darkened again. "Wha – we are n-not – "

"Just… be careful," warned Pomfrey before letting Fleur dress herself once again and leave her office.

"And… Ms. Delacour?" called the nurse, regaining the young Veela's attention. "He's been through a lot… and he's chosen you… don't make him regret it."

Fleur nodded slowly before closing the door and leaving the Hospital. Looking forward to being back in her and Harry's little sanctum.

' _I won't. He chose me as well… I'm never losing this'_

* * *

A cold air greeted Christmas morning and neither Harry nor Fleur truly wanted to leave their bed. Harry knew he could withstand the cold, and so could Fleur, but that did not mean that she was going to be comfortable, no matter how many layers of clothing she put on, the young Veela had told him that it didn't compare to the warmth she got from sleeping with him.

Harry conceded silently by staying with her the entire morning. It was a good opportunity to give Fleur her presents after all.

That was, after he got his own present from her. It was a photo album, similar to the one Sirius had given him long ago that was filled with pictures of his parents, but this one was empty.

"I… I want us to fill zem. I don't know if our relationship was clear but I… really want to stay wiz you,  _mon chéri_ ," she said with a smile.

Harry smiled. "I want the same, beautiful. I will stay with you for as long as you wish me to."

After a brief kiss, he opened it to see that there was already one of them there. One that had been taken after their victory in the first task. It showed Harry and Fleur smiling at the camera, which he remembered had been held by a very enthusiastic Clemence.

The emerald-eyed wizard then smirked mischievously before taking out a large chest he had hidden below the bed.

"Well, here's your present… or maybe I should say  _presents_."

Fleur's eyes widened at what could be inside, but before she could actually open it, Harry stopped her.

"Impatient, aren't we? These are your presents, but we don't want to open them all at once, do we?" Harry questioned mirthfully.

"But 'Arryyyy! I want zem now!" whined Fleur.

Harry chuckled in a gravely tone. "Alright, I give you just one today, beautiful – close your eyes!"

"Alright," Fleur grumbled. "What is in ze chest? Is it really what I zink it is? 'Ow did you get zem."

"Remember when I went to pick up my robes at London with my Godfather?" Harry waited for Fleur to confirm. "Well… I kinda decided to take a small personal detour into a certain shop. I made a potion to make myself older and I managed to get a few things."

"Mmmmmh. I really want to see zem all," commented Fleur.

Harry snickered once again. "Good things come to those who wait. Close your eyes," he commanded once again.

Once Fleur closed them, he took out a leather collar. This one was of a greater quality than the last, it could be felt on the material. The smoother edges would also make it more comfortable than the last one, which had Fleur complaining of chafing.

He wanted one that was a little more custom made for his girl, but there was not enough time to get such an order made, so he went with the most expensive black leather one that was available. He would have to wait for another time for a custom-made collar, especially with some of the different materials and colors they could be made of. He had also bought her a couple of metal ones but decided to keep those hidden for now.

Gently, he pulled her hair to the side and quickly worked the collar around her neck like he was used to. Harry did not miss the beautiful smile that erupted once she realized what she was being given, something that he replicated as he locked the small heart-shaped lock, securing the leather piece that sported an O-ring at the front of her throat.

"Merry Christmas, beautiful."

Fleur opened her eyes and immediately sought the mirror to see the new collar. It was smaller than the last one and fit her slender neck perfectly. The French beauty smiled as she posed in several different positions in order to show off the new accessory. Once she finished doing so, she jumped back at him and was rewarded with a passionate kiss.

" _Joyeux Noël_ , 'Arry."

Later in the day he had received several other gifts from his friends as well. Just as he had gotten for them. Books, various assortment of candy, and several magical artefacts were given to him by Hermione, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Luna, Sirius, Remus, Tracey, Blaise, and to his surprise, Daphne.

Nym had also given him something extremely useful: a dragonhide wand holster. It would definitely come in handy during the following tasks.

There was even a gift by Viktor Krum. He had given Harry a book on flying techniques, an obvious ploy to once again get him to race against the Bulgarian champion. It was a challenge that was getting more and more difficult to refuse.

Hermione got him several books of famous muggle authors. She knew of his fascination with the fantasy and science fiction genres. In return, she got a several advanced books on magic.

Daphne was a curious sort, having given him a copy of Machiavelli's "The Prince". Why she had done so, Harry had nary a clue. In return he had gotten her several expensive potions ingredients.

Susan had gotten him an expensive cologne. Harry sent her a book on healing techniques, something he had known to be her strong point when it came to magic.

The oddest was definitely Luna's: a book containing the history of marriage customs in the British Wizarding World.

Strange.

In return, she got a few tracking runes that could help her keep an eye on her missing things.

The rest of the day passed calmly until Fleur left in order to prepare with her friends for the ball, having left her dress back at the Beauxbatons carriage. Harry, on the other hand, was taken back to the Room of Requirement by Sirius in order to help him prepare.

Harry stood in front of the mirror looking in satisfaction as his usually messy hair was restrained in a small ponytail.

"Huh… I guess you were right. Letting it grow did make it easier to control," commented Sirius, who was sitting on the sofa next to his godson. "You don't look half-bad, actually."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," replied Harry sarcastically.

Sirius laughed. "I think having a the most beautiful girl in the world as a date is all the confidence you will ever need, Prongslet."

"Ball's in one hour, Harry," informed Remus, still practicing against the wooden target in front of him.

"Right – where will you be?" asked Harry.

Sirius grunted. "We'll just go to the small adults party they're having over at Hogsmeade. Let the kids have their fun."

"Don't spike the pumpkin juice again," grumbled Harry, his gaze not leaving the mirror.

He was dressed in quite the expensive ball robes. He did not usually care much about his choice in clothing, but this special night with Fleur called for something far above what you could usually find in Gladrags.

Thus, Sirius had taken him to a little trip to London to one of the top magical designers to make custom robes for him. They were black in color, combined with red. The colors of his house, along with the corresponding symbol. The dragon was red in color though, to contrast with the mostly black cloth.

"Heard a little rumor," said Sirius, "about the band they're bringing over to play."

"Which one is it?" asked Harry.

"Nymmie's favorite band – the Weird Sisters."

Harry laughed a little. "Nym will probably curse herself that she graduated last year once she hears of this," he said. "How is she doing by the way? Still looking to get into the Auror Academy?"

"She has been. Of course, it's been unsuccessful. Can't join until she turns eighteen in May," replied Sirius. "I really hope she looks for something else though… if she's dead set on seeing the bad side of this world, she should work on being a lawyer like her parents… better pay too."

"Nym graduated with top honors. She can do anything if she sets her mind to it. Still… why go for Auror? With her personality, I see her doing something – anything else," replied Harry.

Sirius remained uncharacteristically quiet for a moment before saying, "I… don't know," in a tired tone.

The raven-haired boy looked at his watch and saw that the ball would be beginning in less than forty-five minutes.

"Well, I got to go. McGonagall wants the champions there early – see you tomorrow," Harry said before hugging Sirius and Remus.

Once the Potter heir exited the Room of Requirement, he made his way down the long stairs and stood outside the area he'd been told previously to wait. Harry and the rest of the Triwizard champions – including Fleur – were meant to kickstart the whole Ball, so a special meeting place had been made for them.

There stood Cedric, and an emotionless Krum. He stood besides them and waited without a word.

Cho Chang was the first to arrive. Harry's former crush was certainly a sight to behold with her white Chinese style dress and her pure black hair as she sauntered over to Cedric. The second one was Hermione, who was dressed in pink and had straightened her hair. For one moment, Harry felt a pang of regret upon letting Krum take her to the ball. His best friend looked absolutely stunning when she had prepared for the night, the characteristics she bemoaned when she was younger (the big teeth and ratty hair) were slowly disappearing to reveal a beautiful young woman.

It was then that Fleur Delacour decided to make her appearance.

She was wearing a silver dress that matched perfectly with her usually straight hair, which had been fashioned into long and wavy curls. Unlike most girls who wore quite a bit of cosmetics, Fleur seemed to wear very little, enough to enhance her features.

All of the people present were flabbergasted, even more so than usual. Fleur seemed almost to radiate beauty, so much that it wafted over to the rest of the castle and its occupants. Wizards and witches were unable to keep their eyes off her or their mouths closed.

For a few seconds, even Harry fell in with the crowd.

"So nice to see zat I can actually get zis kind of reaction from you,  _mon chéri,_ " she commented with a small smile.

Harry immediately regained his composure, which could not be said for the rest of the students around them.

"Don't get too used to it, beautiful. I can still withstand most of you," replied Harry before whispering, "I have to do so. How else am I going to dominate you?"

Fleur giggled before taking his offered arm and joining the rest of the champions, who promptly waited for the arrival of McGonagall, who would be giving them their instructions for the dance.

Truthfully speaking, Harry just didn't do dancing, he just never found the reason to do so, but after a few arguments with Sirius it had been made clear that as a future Lord he would be expected to have the knowledge. During summer, Sirius had made sure to invite Andromeda and her daughter, Nym, to help him do so.

Once again, Harry was thankful for his godfather's intervention.

"Champions over here, please!" came the voice of the Deputy Headmistress.

They walked over to Professor McGonagall and she explained them on how they would be starting but Harry was so entranced by Fleur that he barely heard her strict instructions on etiquette.

The music then started, signaling the champions' entrance into the Great Hall, which had been outfitted to celebrate the occasion. He saw the different decorations, such as silver frost and mistletoe. The four long tables had been replaced with smaller ones, each lit by several candles.

The crowd on either side of the walkway clapped as the champions entered the dance floor. The Potter heir managed to see a few distinct figures that were watching them.

Ron was glaring at them. Both at Krum and Harry, but the emerald-eyed wizard did not truly know who was getting the most of it. The youngest male Weasley had come alone, not having found a date in time for the ball. Doubtless, he was jealous of both Krum bringing Hermione, and Fleur going with the Potter heir.

' _If you had not been such a prat, I might have helped you get a date with someone else… but you would've wanted Fleur, wouldn't you Ron? Or would you have wanted to go with Hermione?'_

There were others of course. Neville had come with Hannah, the shy Gryffindor looking nervous while the pigtailed blonde smiled and waved at them. Harry smiled at the pair and returned the gesture.

Susan had come with a brown-haired boy who seemed nice. The redhead was wearing one of the more modest dresses of them all, hiding her quickly developing figure from onlookers. She was also smiling at him, but it seemed to be slightly melancholic, never really reaching her grey eyes.

The last one he noticed was Daphne Greengrass. She was one of the few that had come alone as well, yet instead of it looking slightly pathetic like the others who had not found a partner, she look more unreachable than anything. Harry knew that the violet-eyed Slytherin had no small amount of offers from the wizards of all three schools, yet she had rejected them all with a glare.

Once they had reached the center of the Hall, the champions were led to one of the tables that was apparently reserved for them. Harry immediately pulled on Fleur's chair, which she sat on gracefully. He sat on his own at her side, eyeing the menu with interest.

It seemed to be a combination of dishes from the many counties which took part on the Tournament. Meals from Britain, France, Scandinavia and others from all of Europe.

"Pork chops!" commanded Dumbledore from another table, and his ordered dish appeared on his plate.

The rest of the Hall soon followed the Headmaster's example, shouting commands at the empty dish and receiving their own dish. Harry was still looking at the menu, trying to decide what he should order. He was already familiar with British food of course, it was a chance to try something from another country.

" _Gratin dauphinois!"_ Fleur ordered, and a meal made out of potatoes and cream was summoned to her plate.

Harry smirked and decided to impress his girlfriend by choosing something out of her native land. To his dismay, he ended up butchering the name.

"Ehh…  _gigot d'Agneau pleureur?"_ he finally managed to say after a few tries, drawing giggles from Fleur, but he was awarded with the lamb roast in front of him.

"You are finally starting to eat real food," joked Fleur.

"You must be joking? I've got this tall and strong thanks to the food I've eaten," responded Harry mirthfully.

"It also makes most of you English fat."

"We are a proud and simple people, beautiful," Harry responded.

"In France we have a word for people like zat: savages," said Fleur.

Harry then lowered his voice before saying, "I didn't hear you complaining when I went all savage on your magnificent ass, beautiful." Fleur immediately reddened and went on to concentrate on her meal.

Once again, Harry had to admit that their neighbors across the channel certainly had talent when it came to the kitchen. He briefly wondered if Fleur had skill when it came to cooking herself. Both the emerald-eyed wizard and his Animagus godfather seemed to be hopeless in that area, often relying on restaurants or ready-made meals to keep them going.

He finally seemed to notice Krum besides him and thus his partner, Hermione.

She was truly pretty as well, having ordered a healthier meal of herself, consisting of chicken breast and salad. Krum had opted for a plate of goulash instead. They seemed to be making small talk with some difficulty. Krum's accent making it hard to communicate.

Hermione seemed to be mostly asking questions about Durmstrang and the types of classes the students were expected to take over there. Krum answered them, taking a spoonful every time Hermione asked for another question.

"So… how have you been, Hermione?" asked Harry.

The brown-haired girl finally stopped asking questions – which earned Harry a thankful look from Krum – and concentrated on the other guests.

"Harry… Fleur," she greeted with a professional tone. "I've been fine – just fine thank you… what about you?"

"We've been doing perfect, 'Mione. I was surprised that you decided to accept Krum's offer to come over," continued Harry, trying to dig into what Krum was doing with his best friend.

"Well… I was hesitant at first, but then Krum explained that he wanted to go with someone who wouldn't care about his celebrity status," confessed Hermione.

"I have girlfriend back home, but could not come over to ball," informed Krum. "Hermy-own-ninny has been good friend and understands situation."

"I see…" responded Harry. He didn't know why, but he was glad that Hermione wasn't considering the Bulgarian Quidditch star for more than a simple date. It was a strange feeling, but it was certainly there.

Once they finished with their meals, the music started to play and the champions were led to the middle of the hall in order to kickstart the dance.

The music started and they started to move. Harry remembered the moves he had practiced in the summer well, Andromeda Tonks had made sure of that. Fleur was practiced as well, as expected of a daughter to one of France's most important lords.

Slowly but surely, the other couples soon started to join them, but Harry was completely entranced by Fleur too much to care. They kept on dancing until Fleur finally asked for them to stop.

"Zese heels are pretty, but zey get very tiresome after a while – can we go get somezing to drink?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied and they both went over to a table filled with drinks and snacks, some of which really interested Fleur.

" _Macarons!"_  she gasped and quickly led him to a plate filled with some sort of cookies, taking some for herself.

"Macaroni?" joked Harry. "I didn't know you liked macaroni and cheese. Very American of you."

" _Non! Macarons!_ 'Ow can you compare  _macarons_  to macaroni?"

"Well they sound the same. Maybe they even taste the same?" Harry grinned at Fleur's horrified look.

"To compare  _macarons_  and macaroni… y-you are such a culinary barbarian!" she said, aghast at his comments.

"Hush now… let's just try the macaroni," said Harry between chuckles.

While Fleur ate the differently colored pastries at her satisfaction, Harry spied the other guests.

First, he looked at Susan, who was actually looking at him while sitting down on her table before turning as red as her hair and looking at a different direction. Once again, he couldn't help but see the sadness plastered on the Hufflepuff's face.

He then quickly turned to look at Daphne, also sitting on her table with Tracey at her side. She was gazing at the dance floor with thinly veiled contempt evident on her features.

"What are you looking at,  _mon chéri_?" asked Fleur as she took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder.

"My friends… Susan looks pretty sad. I don't think her date really cares for her. Daphne hates it, though," he then looks at Fleur mischievously. "I really want to tease her."

Fleur giggled before nodding and they both went over to Susan, who couldn't help but blush even harder as they both arrived and stood next to her.

"Hey Susan. How do you like the ball?" he asked jovially.

Susan once again smiled melancholically as she finally looked at them. Her deep, grey eyes couldn't meet theirs however, and quickly looked down at the floor again.

"It's ok… I guess," she answered with an unenthusiastic tone, making Harry frown.

"Is your date not treating you well?" he asked.

"Oliver is a good friend, he just wants to celebrate Christmas differently than us," replied Susan.

Harry continued to frown, now feeling protective over the kind and gentle redhead. Why she had been so sad the past few weeks, he couldn't understand, but it bothered him greatly.

"Do you want to dance?" He finally asked, causing Susan to brighten up a little but it vanished almost immediately.

"I… you are already a couple… I don't want to intrude, Harry," she said with a strained voice.

It was then that Fleur entered the conversation, immediately taking Susan's hand into her own and pulling her up from her seat.

"Well if you don't want to dance with 'Arry, zen dance wiz me!" exclaimed Fleur and led the protesting girl over to the dance floor.

The sight of the two beautiful girls was definitely causing a bit of a stir, and not just because Fleur once again entered the sight of the attendants. It was definitely odd to see two witches dancing together like a couple, but no serious protest erupted.

Fleur was smiling as he led the shorter girl through a song. Susan on the other hand was no longer looking sad but was now as red as her almost crimson hair.

Surprisingly enough, the sight did not cause the same jealousy in Harry that he would have expected to upon seeing his beautiful flower with another person. He just chalked it up to the fact that Susan was a very good friend, but inwardly realized that if this were Cedric or even Neville taking Fleur to a dance like that, he would have very different feelings.

Now alone, he turned his attention once again to the stormy looking figure of Daphne Greengrass and walked over to her.

The look of contempt that characterized the black-haired Slytherin grew into a flat-out glare as she noticed that he was making his way over to her.

"Leave, Potter!" she commanded before he even said a word. "You just leave me alone now and walk back to your table to wait for your French Veela. Don't bother me with your presence."

Harry smirked as he sat down next to her.

"My my, Daph. Here I was thinking that you really needed a good dance in order to take you out of your funk. Do you always act like this in those pureblood balls you're invited to?"

Daphne huffed in response. "A ball is meant to socialize with people that will help you in the future. They are just a thinly veiled disguise to hide the ambitions of others, and since I have no ambitions with this gaggle of silly witches and boorish wizards, then I will take no part in the charade."

Harry laughed and then quickly grabbed her hand, leading the surprised Daphne over to the dance.

"Come on, Daphne. Live a little!"

Daphne kept on glaring at Harry as he led her to the dance.

"You are infuriating, Potter! Don't you have a Veela that you can bother? I'm pretty sure you came with one," she hissed but started to dance regardless.

"She's a little occupied at the moment." Harry looked over at Fleur still dancing with a blushing Susan.

Daphne huffed once again but actually started to dance professionally, almost as good if not better than Fleur's practiced moves. The attention of the crowd suddenly shifted once again to the Potter heir, apparently amazed that he managed to get the famous Queen-Bitch of Slytherin to dance with him.

"You do this a lot?" asked Harry.

Daphne answered in monotone. "It's expected of me, Potter. You will be doing so once you finally decide to integrate yourself in our world."

Harry smiled. "Is that why you sent me that Machiavelli book? I didn't think that a pureblood princess like you would know about him."

"I'm not daft enough as the rest of the purebloods to not know the advantage of wisdom and knowledge, and neither is my family," responded Daphne.

They continued the rest of the dance until the music stopped and the Weird Sisters made their entrance, changing the mood of the place entirely. The students immediately went over to them and started to sing and dance differently than they had been doing so before.

Daphne left him and went back to her seat. Harry then noticed that Fleur was back by his side, sitting down on a table in exhaustion and taking off her heels with a tired sigh.

"Want to go?" asked Harry, realizing that his date was getting quite tired now.

" _Oui_ , but give me a couple of minutes, I want to rest a little," she said, massaging her feet.

"No need," Harry said with a smirk before grabbing her bridal style, causing Fleur to yelp cutely. "The barbarian is taking this princess away with him either way."

Fleur laughed as they both made their way outside the Great Hall and into the gardens, watching the clear sky and the moon shining down on them.

Harry looked down upon the French beauty, entranced by how the light of the moon enhanced Fleur like a fairy from the fantasy tales he had listened to as a boy.

' _I am so lucky to have you, my angel…'_

"Fleur?" he said as he stopped to look at her sparkling blue eyes.

"Yes,  _mon chéri?_ "

"I love you," he said with all the sincerity he could muster. He really did mean every word and more.

Fleur smiled at him, tears of happiness trailing down those blue sapphires as she cupped the side of his face.

"I love you to, 'Arry…"

The kiss they shared below that clear sky was unlike any Harry had ever felt. No matter what challenges might lie ahead, he now had something that completed him, that would make him stronger. He briefly remembered the talk with Dumbledore when he had first met the magnificent woman in his arms.

' _I have done it. I have found something precious… and I'm never letting it go.'_

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that Susan finally left the ball, having kept social appearance was the only thing that was really necessary for her. She didn't have to enjoy or stay as long as the rest of the students, nor did she have to be accompanied by the many, many wizards that had asked her out. She had finally settled on going with Oliver Rivers, who had confessed to Susan the previous year that he had no interest in witches. It was something that redhead could appreciate; Oliver was a good friend, a very good-looking friend who had also caught the eye of several girls, their mutual disinterest was the reason they finally decided on going together.

Susan really only had interest in one wizard. Hence the reason why she was adamant on leaving as soon as possible.

Harry had looked so handsome when he had appeared. Just as handsome as when he had protected her from a Malfoy and his goons back in second year, yet more mature and manly then that event two years prior. It was from that moment that Susan had fallen for him.

It wasn't hard for it to happen. The Gryffindor was definitely a cut above the other wizards of their year, not only in terms of looks, but in personality as well. Always so driven yet also carrying himself with an aura of confidence and dominance, Susan was powerless to prevent the attraction.

Susan never acted on her feelings, however, not only because of her shyness and non-confrontative nature, but also because of the sheer quality of the  _competition_ she had to deal with just to speak to the green-eyed Gryffindor.

The most obvious one was the witch that had been by Harry's side since the beginning. Hermione Granger was an impressive girl, to say the least. For their first couple of years she had been top of their class and was considered to be a prodigy in all fields. While her looks had been a little rough at the beginning, the brown-haired girl started to mature into a beautiful woman, something that she had displayed tonight very effectively.

It seemed as though they were the perfect couple. The prodigy golden pair, yet it never really came to happen

There were also others, of course. The gorgeous Cho Chang, the beautiful Daphne Greengrass, even the ever-present Ginevra Weasley. She'd also been seeing Harry hang out with the school's resident oddball, Luna Lovegood.

But she never would've expected that Harry would have ended up with the most beautiful woman Susan had ever seen. It fitted him, she supposed, that the worthiest wizard would end up with such a girl, even if she was from another country.

It didn't hurt Susan any less when she saw them today, smiling at each other, clearly in love.

Yet she could not truly bring herself to hate Fleur Delacour. She was too beautiful and kind to hate.

It did not help matters that Susan could not help to be utterly attracted to the French beauty as well, bringing into focus another repressed part of her that seemed to manifest around both Harry and Fleur.

Susan liked men, of that she had no doubt, yet ever since she started to notice the tingly feelings girls get around boys, she also started to get them with girls as well. It was a weird feeling that she felt aroused with both. She couldn't help it however, and as the male population made their comments on Fleur Delacour, the redhead couldn't help but agree with them as well.

Dreams of Harry that she used to have then also included them with the French witch. She imagined kissing the Veela's soft lips, followed by another kiss with Harry's rougher ones.

It was wrong and perverted and sick and  _forbidden_ , but Susan couldn't help but fantasize about both Harry and Fleur… being with both of them. The dance with the French beauty had only served to stir up those emotions even harder than ever before.

Sighing, she sat down on a bench and stared at the sky with sadness.

It just wasn't fair! Why couldn't she have that?!

The clacking of heels interrupted her thoughts. The sounds were then followed by frustrated murmurs.

"That… stupid… infuriating… Potter! Curse him!" came the voice that eventually revealed itself behind the bushes. It was Daphne Greengrass.

"Um…" trailed Susan as she looked at the gorgeous Slytherin. The light of the moon making her even more attractive.

The Slytherin yelped quietly as she noticed Susan Bones sitting in one of the benches.

"Bones! What are you doing here?" she demanded with some anger in her voice.

Susan bit her lip before looking back at the starts. "I… don't want to go back there." Back there with Harry and Fleur.

Daphne sighed before sitting down besides her, taking of her heels and flexing her toes in exhaustion.

Susan had never really noticed just how absolutely  _beautiful_  Daphne Greengrass was. Sure, she knew she was pretty, but seeing her right now, it was something else entirely. Once again, the repressed emotions started to surface.

"You hate it back there as well, don't you?" said Daphne, her violet eyes still looking at the moon.

Susan looked at the white orb in the sky as well before saying, "It's not like I hate it… but –"

"You wanted to go with Potter," Daphne finished without any mocking that she would've expected from other members of her house.

Susan blushed immediately. "N-no… it's just…" she stammered and eventually could not get any words out. How could she possibly deny the truth?

"I won't tell anyone. You and I have more in common than you realize," assured Daphne.

Susan looked at the ground. "You're in the same position I am, aren't you?"

Daphne sighed. "I am, but not as badly as you, I'm afraid. I do have three younger sisters… but if anyone is having that burden, then it'll be me."

Susan kept on looking at the ground. "You like him too, don't you?"

This time it was Daphne's turn to turn red. "What?! Potter? That's ridiculous… I don't –"

"Yes, you do… I'm more observant than you give me credit for," replied Susan.

Daphne huffed before settling down. "Not that it matters, Frenchie's got him already. Even before that I was sure he and Granger would've been the couple."

Susan looked as Daphne's façade started to fall little by little. By Merlin, she looked  _gorgeous_. The redheads heart started to beat harder and faster as she continued to look on.

"I just… I always held the hope that I could be with him. It would be hard to make it work with my… situation – but I always wanted it… dreamed of it more than anything," confessed Susan, tears starting to form in her grey eyes.

Daphne looked at her before saying, "It'd be a hard situation. He's the heir of two houses. I don't know if he even knows what is expected of him in the future when it comes to marriage, or  _marriages_. You'd be the fourth after that, being a consort."

Susan looked back at the sky with a blurry vision.

"I wouldn't care… I really wouldn't…"

Daphne stayed silent for a few moments. "I understand," she finally said.

A delicate hand settled on Susan's shoulder and the Hufflepuff looked over at the beautiful witch in front of her, taking in her long black hair and violet eyes. The redhead started to breathe heavily, sadness and desire taking over as she gazed upon the Slytherin's lips.

"Daphne…I'm about to do something really foolish," breathed Susan.

Daphne simply huffed. "I doubt whatever foolishness you'll do can be worse than going ba- mmmm!"

The violet-eyed girl did not have time to finish her statement, because her delicate mouth was suddenly blocked by Susan's soft lips.

Daphne froze on the spot as the shorter girl kissed her. Susan felt as if the Greengrass heiress almost stopped breathing while she continued to press her lips to her. She didn't taste much more, neither of them parted their lips to deepen it.

Susan did feel her heart thump in excitement at such an intimate action. How daring was she being! She had given this beautiful girl her very first kiss, taboos be damned. She had always imagined Harry being the first to do this to her, but Daphne Greengrass was not a bad option. Not a bad option at all.

Opening her eyes, Susan saw that Daphne looked absolutely stunned with violet eyes staring in disbelief. The redhead felt immediately ashamed at what she just did. She had never asked for the dark-haired girl's consent before she had acted.

Now the taller girl probably thought that she was a total freak. It was something that Susan had struggled with ever since she realized that she saw the beauty of girls the same way she saw the beauty of boys. Whatever the case, a girl being attracted to another girl was seen as depraved in their world, it didn't matter that the Bones heiress liked boys just like most girls did as well.

"I… I'm sorry… I'll just leave and – "

It was Daphne that interrupted this time. Not with a kiss, but by placing a finger on Susan's lips.

"Don't. You still like him… don't you?"

Susan nodded sadly before responding, "Yes… and so do you. Don't try to deny it, I can see it."

Daphne flushed red for a moment, that was the only answer that Susan needed.

"Alright – I admit it. It's not like there's a whole lot of quality wizards to choose from. Least of all in my house," responded the Greengrass heiress as she crossed her arms and blushed.

Susan smiled with a hint of melancholy. "So… we both lose in the end. We can't compete with her… no way we can have what we want."

Daphne nodded with a look of sadness that Susan would have never thought she would see in the normally stoic and composed Slytherin.

"But… can we have each other at least. To make our future marriages a little more… tolerable? I know this is seen very… how do you say… unfavorably by wizarding society."

Daphne smiled slightly. "Oh… it's more common than you think."

Susan looked confused but let the taller witch continue.

"If pureblood Ladies did not have each other then they'd go mad with their marriages. Ever wonder why most of them only have one child? Most of them can't stand their husbands," revealed Daphne. "You seriously never heard the rumors of what Narcissa Malfoy and Carmela Zabini do when they go on those extensive trips in Italy? Trust me, these things are not said on polite society, but it's very common. I imagine I will also end up saddled with someone to further our family's standing. You need to get married to someone without a family name so it passes down to your son. I'm guessing that's going to be our future as well."

Susan giggled before suddenly turning more serious. "I don't know… I like girls… but I also like guys."

"Who said I didn't like men as well? But I seriously doubt the one I'll be married to in the future could compare himself to my father."

"Or Harry," quipped Susan.

"Potter…right."

As they both stared at the sky, their hands slowly inched towards each other before finally grasping each other, Giving its counterpart warmth in the cold December air.

"If… if Harry were to be married to two women. Then maybe…" trailed Susan.

"You want to get on Ms. Delacour's pretty French panties as well?" commented Daphne with no small hint of sarcasm.

Susan giggled. "Well that'd be something, I can't say I haven't dreamed of it… being hugged and kissed by that girl. I wouldn't mind being with both her and Harry…"

Daphne snorted before she continued to stare at the clear sky.

"… and you," she finished with a tone of sadness.

Daphne looked at the stars for a few seconds before closing her eyes.

"Best let dreams be dreams, Susan. Don't hurt yourself more by thinking on the impossible."

The redheaded girl nodded, her vision turning blurry as she gazed over at the stars. Maybe Daphne was right, maybe she was thinking of a fantasy that she needed to let go. Just as she should have let go a long time ago.

Her dreams that night did not go away however, they simply changed just as they had been changing for the last two years. There was Harry of course, and her, but there was also Fleur and Daphne, even Hermione and some other figures. All of them happy.

She never wanted to get rid of the dreams, the fantasy, the love that she wanted. No matter how much they hurt.

She desired it more than anything in the world.

**AN: Chapter son if "You're in Love" by Ratt from their 1985 album, "Invasion of Privacy". News broke out that Warren DeMartini won't be in the main band any longer, unfortunately. He's definitely one of my guitar heroes.**

**I think I have already fully established the Harry/Fleur relationship, so it's – aside from a few kinky scenes of course – I plan to finish the Triwizard Tournament as quickly as possible so that I can finish the first "arc" of the story.**

**Well, I guess the main character aside from Harry and Fleur in this chapter is Susan in her very first POV. A little angsty, but the eventual payoff is a lot better when the hardships are a lot deeper. I'm guessing I need to have a Daphne one at some point as well. I guess it should be confirmed at this point that this story is indeed a Harry/Multi story if it wasn't clear before, and it includes more than just Fleur, Daphne, and Susan.**

**I realize that back when I started as "Fleur's Kinky Contract", it was only tagged as Harry/Fleur, but that story is not longer the one that I'm writing. This is bigger, much bigger than that. This is the story I always wanted to tell but never really had the guts to attempt before because of various reasons, chief among them being that English is my second language and that I was afraid of failure. I have come to realize that not even attempting it is a failure itself, so I am doing it now. If it's a failure, then it's a failure, but it's a failure that I was really passionate about, so thank you for reading it.**

**Also, I have finally created a Discord server if you wish to communicate over various topics. Link is on my profile. It'd be great to have you there.**

**Thank you very much for your attention, and as always, if you have any questions or comments, or just wish to give your thoughts, leave a review. I answer via PM. Or go to my Discord! Link in my profile.**

**Thank you very much.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage.**


	12. Caught in the Middle

" **Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Chapter 11 is here!**

**I really want to get started on what comes after the Tournament and start building up the conflicts. That said, this is still primarily a romance fic, and this chapter certainly reflects that.**

**Warning if you didn't get it already this chapter escalates the erotic parts of the story a little bit more than before.**

**Chapter song is "Caught in the Middle" by Yngwie Malmsteen from their 1985 album "Caught in the Middle". You'll see why after you're done reading.**

**With that out of the way, enjoy the chapter.**

"Dialogue"

' _Thoughts'_

" _Foreign Language"_

**A Godfather's Promise**

**Chapter XI: Caught in the Middle**

The Yule Ball was a momentous occasion that was a tradition for the Triwizard Tournament, which in itself was an event that had not been realized in centuries. Safe to say – despite the attendance being reduced essentially to mostly students – the attention of the entire Wizarding World was upon it.

Unfortunately, Harry Potter realized the next day that the attention of their entire world also meant no little amount press coverage.

Press coverage being written and reported by one Rita Skeeter apparently, as Harry found out during breakfast when he received his daily dose of Ministry propaganda provided – as always – by the Daily Prophet. The title was enough for him to know what kind of story was being spun by the scandal saleswoman that had tried to besmirch the Potter heir's name since the moment they met.

_BOY-WHO-LIVED AND FRENCH VEELA PHILANDER DURING BALL!_

_By: Rita Skeeter_

_The Yule ball is a standard tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since it's inception. It is a moment of relaxation to celebrate the unity of the various schools that participate in the aforementioned Tournament. A merry time for friendships to be forged and for enmities to be lost._

_It'll come as a shock then, when I reveal to you the actions that one of our more famous young students, Harry James Potter, took during such a sacrosanct event._

_To the surprise of most students, Mr. Potter did not decide to invite a witch of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but rather a foreigner from France, and a Veela at that!_

_Indeed, Mr. Potter decided that for his date he would be inviting a fellow champion, the Beauxbatons champions to be exact, Ms. Fleur Isabelle Delacour. It is my sacred duty as a reporter to inform the public that Ms. Delacour is in fact, a Veela._

_The fact that Mr. Potter – only heir to the oldest and wealthiest family in all of wizarding Britain – invited a foreigner would be suspicious enough, but the fact that this foreigner is in fact a Veela should make us all concerned for the future of House Potter, not to mention House Black as well. As such, I have gone ahead and investigated further into this shocking development._

_For starters, it should be said that Veela are known to have an allure that is able to confound and entrance people – mostly men – into doing their bidding. One wonders if this hidden ability of their race is similar to that of the Imperious Curse, one of the Three Unforgivables might I remind the readers._

_One other thing we must be informed of is that Veela have a tendency to go towards rich and influential men for their partners. In France, this infestation has crept even to their Ministry, with some of the top-ranking politicians, Mr. Delacour included of course._

_Given these facts, one wonders if Mr. Potter has not been in some way entranced against his own will by the French champion, seeking to have a nefarious hand in the wealth and power of the future lord of the oldest and most noble house in our great country. It might explain the erratic – and quite frankly, appalling – actions Mr. Potter and Ms. Delacour partook in during the previous nights._

" _He seems entranced nowadays. He no longer hangs out with the same people he used to. It's only 'Fleur this' and 'Fleur that'. Bloody annoying, I tell you!" says Ronald Weasley, a particularly colorful figure if I might say so myself._

_During the Ball, Mr. Potter and Ms. Delacour interacted Ms. Susan Bones – niece of the famous Madam Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – and invited her to dance. No, I did not miswrite that, Ms. Delacour invited poor and vulnerable Susan Bones to a dance just like a man and woman would._

" _It was horrid! Two women interacting in such a way is nothing short of a disgrace!" is the way Draco Malfoy describes the scene._

_While I will not comment on the moral degradation of French culture, I will say that such a sight is not adequate for impressionable witches out there, not in this side of the English Channel it isn't._

_If Mr. Potter happens to read this while he is not under the potential influence of Ms. Delacour, I will say that he needs to think long and hard about what his decision in partners means not only for himself, but for British Wizarding culture as a whole._

_For more information on House Potter and its history, see page four._

_For more information on the Veela, see page five._

Harry's hands were trembling in pure, unadulterated fury as he read word after word of the article that the Daily Prophet had decided was worthy of front page news. That cunt, Rita Skeeter, had done it again. He would be pissed enough if the slanderous reporter had only written about him. But no, she had decided that Fleur and Susan would be made victims as well.

On the back of his mind, he wondered why his own dance with Daphne had not been reported on, but he guessed that the fear of getting on Cygnus Greengrass' bad side was enough of a deterrent.

But the news had brought Harry into a realization that he had ignored for the past month. He was still a champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and he hadn't been preparing very well for the upcoming second task. True, it would be in a couple of months and the Potter heir had certainly been training with Sirius and Remus, but combat spells would not be enough if he didn't know what he would be facing up next.

The only clue as to what the second task would entail was hidden away in those obnoxious golden eggs both Harry and Fleur had locked away after a heavy screeching greeted them after being opened. The frustration over finding out the clue had withered, replaced by a desire to be which each other.

But now it was time to really start to prepare for the task. The emerald-eyed wizard was sure that Cedric and Krum were already trying to crack open the code of the golden egg, whether they had been successful, he did not know. One thing was certain though: the first one to find out the secrets of the egg would be the one with the most advantage.

Which is why later that day he started to inspect the egg more closely, trying to find a hidden clue within the smooth golden surface, some kind of marking or rune that would help the dark-haired Gryffindor solve the vexing puzzle.

Harry took it everywhere he went to – meals, classes, training. He even slept with it by his side, but to no avail.

Fleur eventually started to do the same, trying in vain to find a way to solve the ever-elusive mystery of the egg. Any thought of both competing against one another seemed to be gone, at least until they both managed to find the information necessary to prepare for the upcoming second task.

The obsession was such that one day he took the egg during daily ablutions.

"You're taking ze egg to shave?" came the voice of Fleur from the bedroom. "Aren't you getting a little bit worried? Ze task is still two months away!"

"The sooner we get this screeching abomination to decipher its contents, the sooner we will be able to prepare," responded Harry.

The egg in question was sitting at the side of sink, where running water was pouring down while Harry was finishing shaving away the last parts of the scruffy beard he'd been growing the last few weeks.

Between his desires and the changing body, Harry was noticing just how much puberty was hitting him like a train.

The concentration on the cleaning of his face took attention away from the egg, and while Harry was trying to reach for the towel, his hand accidentally brushed against the golden artifact, creating a small splash where the accumulated water had been building up.

"This fucking thing, I swear." Harry lazily tried to pick up the shining object until he noticed something strange.

The delicate engravings that had at one point seemed like another pattern in the egg started to glimmer brightly upon coming into contact with the water. For once the dull gold of the object started to change in a way Harry had not seen before.

He had broken the code.

"Water!" Harry exclaimed excitedly.

"What was zat?" asked Fleur.

"Bring your egg! Come quick!"

Harry felt his girlfriend come into close contact with him. "What is it?"

"Look at the egg." He then took the away from the sink. "Put yours in," he said and watched as Fleur also laid her own egg in the water.

Like his own egg, the dull gold pattern started to glow slightly. Fleur's face brightened as they both so the once mysterious objects starting to unravel its secrets after many days of questions and tests.

"I think we need to open them when they are underwater," said Harry. "Sink's too small, and we only have a shower." He thought carefully about where to find a large source of water – barring the Black Lake of course.

"Don't you 'ave access to a bigger bathroom?" asked Fleur.

Harry was in thought for a moment. "There's the prefects' bathroom. I'll ask Cedric about it."

Fleur smiled at him. "I 'ope we can get your shower upgraded to a full bathroom at some point." She looked over at the shower with some disdain and huffed. "Do ze English 'ave no sense of  _romantisme_? You would 'ave zought ze 'marriage quarters' would 'ave a bathroom worthy of a young couple in love."

"I think this room was for the younger couples… back when marriages between first years was seen as acceptable," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Zere are ozzer quarters?"

"I think there are, but I guess Dumbledore didn't want to show too much favoritism by giving one of the more lavish quarters." Harry looked over at their room. "I think we made good with what we got, don't you?"

Fleur smiled. "Any place is good wiz you,  _mon chéri."_

Harry smirked at her. "When you're done with classes today, grab your bathing suit and come meet me over there."

"What kind of bathing suit,  _Maître_?" Fleur asked saucily.

Harry slapped her derriere softly. "I'll leave that up to you, beautiful."

* * *

Classes went as usual, Hermione sitting down with him and Neville was the only difference. The brown-haired Gryffindor found Daphne to be quite grating, and scenes such as the one happening in front of him weren't unusual now.

"The instructions clearly say that you must add three drops of bat blood. Three and no more – three!" berated Hermione.

"Typical amateur. Everyone with a gift for Potions will tell you that the final result will sometimes vary depending on the weather, time of day, and even whether the environment was controlled or not. You have to  _feel_  what the potion needs in order to succeed," Daphne shot back.

Hermione was undeterred however. "These books are standardized so that it works on every situation. There is not reason to put five drops just because you  _feel_  that it needs them. What does your feeling have to do with anything?"

"Those books are standardized, of course… standardized for the seventeenth century. But guess what, Granger – this is the twentieth!"

"You're still justifying it because you  _feel_  like putting more. How do you know you will succeed?"

Daphne huffed haughtily. "Potions is noble and elegant art, Granger. It requires a certain amount of grace… small wonder why you aren't number one in this subject."

"You – "

"Please," Neville interrupted, "Can't we all just – "

"I'll be dead before I take Potions advice from you, Longbottom. How about you go and cause an explosion somewhere else," Daphne spat.

"Daphne," Harry warned. "Stop and apologize."

"Potter," she said before dropping another two drops of the bat's blood into the cauldron, causing it to become the appropriate color. "I don't apologize for being right."

"No, but you will apologize for acting up just now," replied Harry.

Daphne gave one of her patented demeaning looks. "Oh really, are you gonna force me now?"

Harry smirked before closing the distance between the two of them and whispering to her ear. "I will if you don't start behaving like a good girl."

Daphne's cheeks went red. "Y-you… shut up, Potter!" She picked up her things and made her way to the door. "Give that to the professor and wait for your Outstanding grade!"

Harry continued to smile as the violet-eyed girl exited the classroom, her face still completely flustered.

"Seriously!" Hermione said in exasperation. "What a… cun–"

"Don't finish that word or the same goes to you, 'Mione," interrupted Harry.

"How can you put up with her?"

Harry chuckled. "You have to find what Daphne's triggers are in order to make her behave."

"I don't want to spend more time with that girl in order to figure out what her 'triggers' are," Hermione responded, still glaring at the seemingly perfect potion in front of them. "Let's do another one."

"Hermione," warned Harry. "Now you're the one trying to belittle Daphne. Be a little humble when you're proven wrong."

"But Harry –"

"No buts. The potion is done, let's just give it to Snape and leave," Harry commanded, grabbing his warm cloak.

If it could even be possible, the weather that way was even worse than it had been previously. Fleur had been particularly clingy last night, practically welding her lingerie clad form to him. It was getting particularly hard to not let his hormones take over his senses, and Harry didn't think it would take long before they would be doing something more extreme in their activities.

"Want to head over to the Common Room?" Hermione asked once they left the classroom. "We could study together… like we used to."

"Sorry, 'Mione," said Harry as sympathetically as possible. "I have things to do right now."

"Oh… alright then… some other time." She turned around and quickly made her way over the seventh floor. More than likely she would be trying to find a way to beat Daphne's potions.

Harry quickly half ran to his own room, only to find that Fleur had still not arrived. She must be talking with her Madame Maxime once again in order to not arouse suspicion. Still, it left Harry some time alone to think about what they after they figure out the mystery of the egg.

With no small degree of excitement, Harry opened the big chest hidden under the bed. He had expressly Fleur from opening it, for it revealed the equipment he had brought. They would make their activities far more… interesting, than before.

Quickly, her perused around the chest, slightly overwhelmed by the scents of leather and rubber that emanated from some of the pieces of clothing and restraints he had bought. Finally, he grabbed the thing he was looking and promptly locked and hid the container once again under the bed.

After that, Harry went over to his bag and placed in the surprise he would use for Fleur, along with his swimming trunks and two towels.

The opening of the door signaled the entrance of his gorgeous girlfriend.

"Sorry for being late,  _mon chéri_ ," said Fleur tiredly. "Madame kept me for more time zan I expected." She went over to him and kissed him. " _Mon dieu!_  It's so cold outside. I want to stay in ze bed all weekend and keep ze fire going as high as possible."

"I'm sure the showers will be piping hot," responded Harry before kissing her again. "Did you bring your egg?"

"Of course. Let's go zere now. I'm frozen to ze bones!"

Harry led the way over to the door Cedric had told him about earlier during the day. It was only one floor above where their room was, and the door itself was almost concealed by the statue of "Boris

"Pine Fresh!" he said with a commanding voice, and the door opened wide.

It was one of the most lavish things Harry had ever seen by far. The entire place was pure white marble, cleaned to a sparkling shine, lit by a luxurious chandelier filled with candles, which gave a dim and relaxing light to the room.

The bathing area itself almost resembled a pool. There was even a diving board! Around it, there were dozens of taps, each with a differently colored jewel. One the far wall, there was a portrait of a pretty mermaid treating her hair delicately.

Fleur huffed haughtily. "So zis is what passes for decorum for ze English. I guess it will 'ave to do."

Harry spanked her ass lightly. "Don't be rude, beautiful." He pointed over to one of the changing rooms. "Get dressed while I prepare the bath."

Fleur giggled. "As you command,  _Maître_."

Harry set his bag besides the bath and opened several of the taps. Cedric had told him about their function, some of them dispensed hot water while others discharged bubbles and foam, each with a different color. The Gryffindor filled it with piping hot water, knowing Fleur's Veela heritage would appreciate the warmth.

Reaching for his school bag, Harry took out his own swimming trunks and started to undress, already sweating due to the heavy humidity that came with the heat of the water. Just like with many of his personal clothes, the garment was red and black.

With some trepidation, the Potter heir slipped inside of the hot water. It was warmer than he was used to, but not by much. Besides, he was willing to accommodate for Fleur's needs even if it meant that he would be a little uncomfortable.

Speaking of his girlfriend, Harry heard the marble door open again in order to reveal Fleur Delacour, wearing a white bathrobe and striding over to him with a red face.

"The waters hot, just like you want it, beautiful." Still, Fleur took no more steps. She seemed nervous, insecure in a way. "What is it?" he asked.

"I… I did not bring…" Fleur muttered, seemingly hesitant to say more. "'Arry…  _mon amour. I –_ I want you to see me," she finally gasped.

Harry frowned. "I am seeing you, love. I see you almost every day now."

Fleur laughed nervously. "Not like zat… I want you to see all of me."

The young Veela then parted her robes, revealing that she was not wearing anything behind them.

Her body was perfection. Even the mermaid behind them paled in comparison to the beauty that was before Harry in that moment.

Her long silver hair framed two perfect breasts. They were not huge – Veela evolved to meet the beauty standards of the old nobility, which asked for more modesty in the size in terms of the women's bosom – but they were still beautifully shaped, capped off with slightly rosy nipples at the center. If Harry were to guess, they were a mid C-cup.

The silver tresses went on past her stomach until the tips framed a smooth and hairless womanhood, below that were her long legs. All of it revealed completely unblemished white skin.

Harry had to admit to being momentarily floored, his brain going completely overload at seeing the perfect woman made flesh in front of his eyes laid completely bare. It did not last; his self-control was enough that he managed to shake himself off the daze after a few moments.

' _How the hell did I manage to be so lucky?!'_

Fleur was still looking on nervously. "Do you like it,  _Maître?"_

Harry smirk threatened to rip his face. "Like it? What do you think, beautiful?"

Fleur smiled nervously as she stepped into the bath, sighing as the hot water covered her entire body. The French witch immediately went over to him until and sat beside him but that immediately changed when she sought to find a better seat in his lap.

Harry could not hold himself anymore and sought out Fleur's lips, caressing her wet hair as his ravenous mouth met hers. She went further than him by feeling his body with her own. The Gryffindor could even feel her breasts meeting with his own chest.

"Touch me 'Arry…  _mon chéri…_  please feel your Fleur," she gasped once he let go.

The green-eyed wizard did just that, his hands slowly went down until the managed to touch her soft breasts, feeling the suppleness and eventually kneading softly. His finger found the small nipples, now tender from the bath's warmth, and started to pinch them lightly.

"Mmm…  _oui_ … like zat…" muttered Fleur, blue eyes closed and her teeth biting her own lips.

Harry continued on with his left hand, but his right started to explore more of her gorgeous body, going down her back and eventually settling with grabbing her firm, generous ass tightly, eliciting even more moans from the silver-haired beauty.

Time seemed to stop, however, when Fleur's hands also started to wander, specifically down to his swimming trunks.

"I don't zink you will need zem now,  _Maître,"_  Fleur whispered lusciously. "I also want to see  _you_."

Swallowing but determined, Harry's hands left Fleur's body in order to take of his only piece of clothing and, freeing his member – which at this point was as hard as a rock – from its confines.

Fleur licked her lips as her hands brushed down his body in order to touch his manhood. Harry saw the Veela's eyes widen slightly when she touched it, feeling it slightly with her hand. By this point, his cock was probably hotter than the water around them.

"'Arry…" Fleur whined. "I need zis… I need zis in me right now."

Harry however, had a little more control than the lustful Veela. "No," he commanded. "Not right now. I want our first time to be… special. More special than this."

"But 'Arry!"

"Fleur," Harry's voice was far stricter now, "you will stop right now."

With a pout, Fleur finally let go of his tool, yet her hands returned back to his chest. "Yes,  _Maître._ "

"Obviously, I have to control you now." He reached for the bag and took out a heavy piece of metal and showed it to Fleur, who's eyes widened once again at the sight.

They were a pair of metal shackles, far stricter than the blue handcuffs Fleur had often tied herself with. These manacles were heavy duty, each cuff two inches long and quite thick.

"Hands behind your back, beautiful."

Fleur – still sitting on his lap – turned around without hesitation and offered her hands. It was slightly difficult to put them under the water, but he managed just right, sliding the metal bars into both cuffs before hearing the characteristic clicking sound.

Having secured Fleur, Harry's arms wrapped around her possessively, sliding the Veela to him until his chest met her back.

"Do you like them, beautiful?" Harry whispered in her ear, hot breath dancing around her lobe as he slowly bit into it.

"I  _love_  zem!" moaned Fleur, experimenting her lack of movement with the heavy-duty manacles.

"That's a good girl," said Harry before sliding his hands around her body once again.

His attention once again returned to Fleur's breasts. Carefully, he started to pinch her nipples, increasing the intensity with every gasp and moan that the silver-haired witch made.

"You are mine, Fleur," Harry growled silently.

"I am yours,  _Maitre_ ," gasped Fleur. "I am your Fleur. I am your pretty – ah! – French flower."

Harry chuckled as he stopped kneading her right breast and instead started to trail his palm down her stomach until it reached her womanhood.

" 'Arry!" gasped Fleur.

"Shhh… don't worry, it's me, beautiful."

Slowly, Harry began exploring this strange new organ he had never touched before, trying to memorize the places that seemed to stimulate Fleur the most, as well as those that would only tease her.

He kept on kissing her shapely neck, occasionally nipping at it as he became well acquainted with Fleur's most sacred area. The Veela's gasps seemed to accelerate when he concentrated on a small little bud almost at the top of her love box.

"Nhhhh… ah! Please, 'Arry!" whined Fleur.

"Please what, love?" Harry whispered.

"Please… I'm so close!" She was trembling indeed, quivering between gasps almost like she was freezing, but the source was pleasure rather than cold or pain.

Harry chuckled, stopping his ministrations momentarily. "Not yet, beautiful."

"Pleeaaaase, 'Arry!" Fleur whined. "I need it!"

Harry ignored her, still keeping his hand over her womanhood, but refusing to stimulate it further. Fleur was struggling, trying to find a way to stimulate herself but Harry kept her firm in his grasp. He breathed into her ear, this time tracing his tongue around the back of her neck, laying kisses in between.

It was then that Fleur took the initiative by using her bound hands to get a hold of his hardened manhood.

Harry was about to protest but couldn't form words as the French witch started to awkwardly pump his cock enthusiastically, making it even harder and hotter with each consecutive stroke.

Harry growled. "You want to come, beautiful?" Fleur nodded tiredly. "The you have to work for it. You don't get release until you satisfy me first."

Fleur laughed lustily. " _Oui_ ,  _Maître!"_

The blue-eyed witch's ministrations intensified after that, slowly but surely bringing him closer and closer to release. Harry kept a good hold of her as he also resumed his own caressing of Fleur's womanhood, though he limited himself to the outer labia, slipping closer and closer to her core as she continued to take care of his cock.

"You are a dirty girl, aren't you, Fleur?" grunted Harry. "You are my pretty, submissive, dirty girl."

"I am your girl, _Maître_! I am your girl forever!" gasped Fleur, quickening her hands in desperation, wanting nothing more than release.

By this point, Harry was merely holding out his orgasm to tease his bound witch, but that action was becoming harder with each consecutive stroke. His hand once again concentrated on the little, sensitive nub at the top of Fleur's core.

"I'm going to come, beautiful," Harry warned. "And then I want  _you_ to come."

Fleur said nothing as she delivered the last stroke and with it, the tip of his tool finally erupted, spreading its seed on the warm water around them. Harry grunted, pleasure running from his manhood through the rest of his body, yet never did he relinquish his control over the still trembling witch.

Regaining his senses, Harry concentrated fully on bringing his partner to the same pleasure she had given him. He rubbed, pinched, and even lightly tugged on the bud, all the while keeping hold on the witch who seemed to be steadily losing control of her body.

Fleur's trembling got more intense, periodically spasming at times while he continued to control her arousal. Her moaning started to fill the entire bath, echoes reverberating through the marble walls, creating a twisted symphony of anguished pleasure.

Then, suddenly and without warning, Fleur delivered one loud, final wail before she started to spasm uncontrollably in his lap. Harry held her tight as she rode her orgasm fully.

The trembling stopped after a moment, and Fleur slumped backwards against his chest. He never let go of her, holding her stomach with one hand while the other softly caressed her hair. The Gryffindor also started to plant sweeter and gentler kisses along the French beauty's neck, hearing her blissful, short, and trembling breaths with a sense of proud satisfaction.

It was not until they glanced back at the two golden eggs laying side by side that they finally remembered the main reason they had even come here in the first place.

* * *

For Fleur, it was an agonizing after they had discovered the secret of the eggs. The riddle was clear – at least it was to Harry – the next task would almost certainly take place in the Black Lake.

Telling this information to Madame Maxime was in both ways a triumph and a curse.

A triumph because Fleur had finally solved what she considered to be the greatest challenge of the second task – solving the riddle behind the egg. It meant that she was progressing as a champion, and victory was one less step ahead.

It was a curse because Madame Maxime ordered her to intensify her training, easily taking away most of her free time with Harry. It had been a month, and only three days she managed to sleep with, let alone continue their activities

Indeed, she was back at her opulent, yet lonely room back at the carriage.

That would change this night. This night Fleur would definitely be slipping back to see her beloved.

It was almost midnight when Fleur finally decided that it was safe enough to leave the confines of her room.

Madame Maxime had been prodding more and more into her personal time, questioning about where she went during the mornings, not knowing she spent most of her nights now with her boyfriend and dominant.

As such, that Friday evening – before going over to back to spend the night with Harry – Fleur had stayed later than usual in her room inside the Beauxbatons carriage in order to keep up appearances that she was not going over every night to sleep with Harry.

The silver-haired Veela loved Madame Maxime dearly, but her life with Harry was much too personal to share even with the woman that had taught her so much.

Deciding that it was late enough and most students – not to mention Madame Maxime – were already slumbering, she crawled away from bed and prepared to traverse the trek from the warmth of her own bedroom, through the snow-covered grounds, and finally towards the castle where she would spend the entire weekend with Harry.

After putting on her coat and boots, she took one final thing with her – the most important thing Harry had given to her.

It was the invisibility cloak they had worn on their first night together. One that belonged to Harry's own father, James Potter. The object itself was extremely powerful, it had lasted longer than other mass-produced cloaks had been. It was one of the most precious heirlooms of House Potter.

She quickly put on the cloak and walked out of her room, she fumbled in the dark until she finally managed to leave the carriage and let the lights shining in the distance guide her path to the castle.

Fleur really hoped that Harry remembered to make that hot chocolate. It was positively freezing.

The young Veela took a secret entrance Harry had told her about and rapidly went on to climb the moving stairs in order to reach the fourth floor and the final destination. Fleur was waiting for the final set of stairs to get settled into place when an odd sight distracted her.

Curious by what she was seeing, she entered the mostly abandoned third floor, confident that the cloak would keep her hidden from what might lay before her.

' _Who would be up in this time of night. Aside from prefects that is?'_

It did not take her long to find the answer to her question.

Hidden in the shadows was the petite form of the girl that Fleur had met during that first night with Harry. The only girl that knew of their kinky escapades together – Luna Lovegood.

The younger girl looked pitiful. Signs of both exhaustion and cold where clearly visible, from the light purple circles under the eyes, to the slightly blue lips, and then to the slight trembling as the Ravenclaw was struggling to stay awake, more than likely in order to not be detected by the prefects and teachers that periodically patrolled the area.

Fleur saw that Luna was still dressed in her Ravenclaw school robes and nothing more, no gloves covered her hands and her feet were once again bare. It was obvious that the dreamy blonde would be facing serious damage to her health if she didn't get to a warm place quickly.

Despite the miserable state she was in, Luna Lovegood still sported that same dotty smile.

The French witch slowly pulled the cloak of her body after checking that nobody else was around. "Luna?" she asked with a whisper.

The blonde looked at the source of the noise with tired eyes, eventually settling on Fleur.

"Oh… hello, slave." Fleur almost choked at the directness. "What are you doing here?"

"What are  _you_  doing 'ere?" the Veela whispers. "You are freezing!"

"Oh… this?" Luna looks at herself with the same smile. "I'm afraid my roommates decided to play quite the prank on me. They locked me outside of the dorm and forced me to go outside – told me to go to the 'loony bin' but I'm afraid I haven't found it yet."

Fleur pursed her lips, thinking about what she could do with the dreamy girl.

"Let's go wiz ze prefects – tell zem about what happened." Fleur helped the girl get up.

"That is not possible, I'm afraid. They will take points of Ravenclaw and the girls will just find another way to be mean," said Luna, still in a positive tone.

The young Veela, wondering if the solution she was thinking about would sit well with Harry. Looking at the poor girl, however, she could not find it in her heart to leave her alone for the night.

"Come wiz me, Luna." Fleur draped the cloak around the shorter girl.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe."

Fleur carefully led the smiling girl out of the third floor and up to the fourth, a protective arm kept the petite blonde close to the French witch.

Fleur could actually feel just how cold Luna was, it even radiated from her body to reach the French champion. It was beyond acceptable. She kind of knew that Luna was suffering some discrimination for her thoughts and mannerisms, but not to this extent.

' _Typical English brutes.'_

The young Veela led Luna to the painting of the black knight that hid Harry's room. Taking off the cloak, she turned to Luna.

"You are about to enter a very private place for me and 'Arry." Fleur looked at Luna and with a very serious voice said, "I trust you will not reveal zis place to anyone else… I'm trusting in you, Luna."

Luna nodded, the air of dreaminess had seemingly drained from the blonde's usual expression. "I haven't told anyone about you and Harry."

"What about Madame Pomfrey?" Fleur interrogated. "You told her about me and 'Arry."

Luna demeanor actually became guilt-ridden for a few moments. "I am sorry… I did not know what I was thinking," she said sincerely. "I did not tell anyone else – I promise!"

Fleur nodded. "Very well, I forgive you. Now we only need to convince 'Arry."

"So, he is, isn't he?" asked Luna, dreamy smile present once again.

Fleur nodded with no small amount of satisfaction. " _Oui_ , 'Arry is my  _Maître_."

"That's lovely… just lovely, yes," said Luna. "You are still not wearing your collar."

"Not while in public… but always wear it when I am wiz 'Arry or in private," said Fleur. "Now… don't say anyzing when we go inside. I will need to talk wiz 'Arry to make 'im understand."

Fleur said the password and went on inside, bringing the petite blonde with her. The warmth of the room was a welcome relief, she even felt Luna ease her trembling. The smell of the promised hot chocolate wafted into the air, and both witches smiled softly.

"Welcome back beautiful! I've been waiting for… you." Harry came out of the bathroom just in time to see Fleur encouraging Luna to step further inside.

"Uhh…" was the only thing Harry managed to get out. "Fleur?"

Fleur, however, concentrated on Luna. She pointed over to the place where the bathroom was and said, "Go and take a warm shower – tell me when you are done so I can 'elp you get ready for ze night."

"Hello, Harry," Luna said dreamily. "It is quite a lovely abode you have in here… yes, quite charming." With the smile never leaving her face, the blonde walked over to the bathroom.

Once the door closed, Harry turned back to look at her. "What was that?"

"That was Luna Lovegood, 'Arry." She briefly remembered the same exact words Harry had said during their first escapade – their first meeting with Luna.

"I know that it was Luna but why is she here?" Harry demanded, not angrily, but definitely a little surprised and maybe slightly upset.

Fleur sighed and sat down on the sofa, going for the steaming kettle and pouring herself some of the hot chocolate. "I found 'er outside, in ze floor below us. She was freezing 'Arry! I couldn't leave 'er there."

Harry nodded, apparently understanding the situation. "Very well then. Luna stays with us for the time being." Then his eyes become serious. "I will be talking to Flitwick and Cho later about this. Who knew that Ravenclaws could be such cunts?"

Fleur smiled. "Zank you for understanding,  _mon chéri._ "

The witch reclined on Harry's shoulder and let the chocolate do its work, warming her cold body instantly. The fire and her boyfriend did the rest. Before she knew it, Fleur felt like she had never been outside on the Scottish Highlands in the middle of winter.

The witch looked at Harry and slowly kissed him, an action that had been performed between them countless times by now but never gained even an ounce of banality. It was a just reward after the heavy week of training and studying she had endured.

The French champion calculated that twenty minutes must have passed before she remembered that they had a visitor just one room away. "I 'ave to check on Luna," said Fleur before standing up and going over to the bathroom.

The air carried a heavy steam from the intensity of the hot water. Luna must have been extremely cold outside if she had taken this long. The low, cheerful humming seemed to tell a different tale, however.

"Are you ready?" called Fleur.

Luna stopped humming and called out to her. "Quite, but I'm afraid that I'm missing a towel… and clothes as well."

Fleur picked up a towel and passed it to Luna behind the plastic drape. "Your clothes are cold and dirty. I will not 'ave you dressing in such unflattering garments while you are in 'ere." She then lowered her voice. "You can come out, Luna. Don't worry about showing me your bod – "

Before Fleur even had the chance to finish her sentence, Luna stepped out of the shower, completely naked and apparently not unnerved in the least bit by being nude in front of the older witch.

"I like the color blue," said Luna. "But I also like green… now that I think about it, yellow is quite a spending color indeed."

Fleur took some time to break out of her stupor before holding her wand on one hand and some cloth she grabbed earlier on the other. Wordlessly, she conjured some underwear and a nightgown, yellow in color.

"'Ere… come meet us when you are done…  _after_ you get changed."

"Thank you kindly," chirped Luna before she started to put on the clothes.

Fleur waited for a moment until Luna finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the yellow nightgown. The signs of early frostbite seemed to of have disappeared, leaving a quite pretty and smiling witch.

"Come over 'ere, Luna," said Fleur encouragingly. "We 'ave hot  _chocolat_. It'll warm up your body in no time."

"That sounds most wonderful!" chirped Luna, skipping on her bare feet until she arrived at the improvised living room.

Harry quickly poured the chocolate into a generous mug and handed it to the smiling blonde, who accepted it eagerly.

They passed some time in silence, watching the nearly frozen Luna recovering some of her color. It was difficult to tell, since her skin was as white as a lily, but a healthy rose soon covered her cheeks once again as she hummed into her mug.

"So, Luna," said Harry, who was sitting besides her. "What happened?"

Luna stopped humming and turned her silver eyes back to them. "Oh, it was quite awful, I must say. Megan and her friends said that they don't want any freaks sleeping with them. When I pointed out that there were no Heliopaths within reach of the Ravenclaw tower, they took my shoes and forbid me to enter the tower," she said.

"Why did you not tell the teachers?" asked Harry.

Luna looked deep in thought, as if trying to remember. "Well… I was going to Professor Flitwick to tell him, but I could have sworn that I saw a Crumple-Horned Snorkack in the distance," she said with complete seriousness. "I gave chase but – as is common with the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks – it disappeared before I could even reach it. By then, it had already gotten dark and the prefects would have taken points if I approached them, which would surely infuriate Ravenclaw even more. So, I decided to wait out the night in the third floor until your slave came to get me."

Fleur almost choked on her mug when she heard that term.

Sure, maybe she could be considered a slave – it was called a "slave contract" when she signed it – but to hear it from the mouth of such a dreamy and innocent looking girl was a bit of a shock to her.

Not that she should be surprised. This is the same Luna Lovegood that flat out stated that she was perfectly fine to be considered Harry's property.

That was one thing she was dreading of this arrangement. There was no doubt Luna was interested. Interested in the lifestyle both Fleur and Harry shared. Beneath the demure and innocent looking façade and dreamy smiles lay a pervert that probably imagined scenarios that would make Fleur blush.

The problem is that Luna wanted to do it with  _them_. Both of them. The blonde girl had mentioned not only being attracted to Harry but to Fleur as well. She shamelessly proposed a polyamory relationship and by the looks of things, she had not given up on that idea either.

"Luna… Fleur is not my slave," stated Harry before hugging her. "She's my submissive and my love. But she's not my slave."

"Who says you can't love your slave," responded Luna. "If I were your slave, would you love me?"

"Luna!" Harry gasped incredulously. "You can't be seriously thinking –"

"I am," responded Luna in a sing-song voice. "I think about it everyday now. What does it feel like? What is it like to be someone's beloved property? I will ask again. If I were your slave, would you love me?"

Fleur felt Harry's hold on her to tighten as he continued to discuss with the dreamy blonde girl.

"Luna… I have a girlfriend already."

"I fail to see the problem."

"I can't have two girlfriends," insisted Harry.

"Why not?" responded Luna. "Besides, I wouldn't be your girlfriend, I'd be your slave."

Fleur couldn't help herself at that moment. She started to giggle, drawing looks of confusion from Harry. She just couldn't be upset with Luna anymore. The blonde was simply too amusing.

"Look, Luna," Harry said while closing his eyes. "What I'm saying is that polygamy is illegal –"

"Not in the Wizarding World," Luna stated.

"What?" Harry asked, flabbergasted.

Luna pouted cutely. "Did you not read the book I gave you? That is quite rude, Harry," she said. "If you read it, you'd know that polygamy is legal, and – in your case – expected."

Harry frowned. "I'm not following."

"Read the book," insisted Luna.

"Even if I do, Luna – you are younger than both of us. I can't very well bring you in just now."

"That's most unfair, Harry. Didn't you know? My birthday is tomorrow! I'll be the same age as you!"

Fleur and Harry looked shocked. "Err… congratulations Luna," said Harry uncertainly. "I'm sorry… I didn't know."

"And there's only one thing I want for my birthday!" chirped Luna. "Well… no… there's pudding. Pudding would be lovely too."

Harry closed his eyes momentarily. "I'm tired," he finally said before looking at Fleur. "I'm sleeping in the couch tonight. You take Luna to bed."

Fleur nodded and stood up. "Come Luna. You must be exhausted after tonight. Ze bed is warm and comfy."

Luna smiled before joining Fleur over at the large bed. "Fleur," she said. "There's enough space for Harry too."

The young Veela shook her head. "Let's just sleep Luna. Just you and me."

The young witch was certainly grabby during the night, almost treating Fleur like and oversized teddy bear. Not that Fleur criticize that, having noticed her own, similar tendencies when sleeping next to Harry. Before she knew it, the French witch was holding Luna closely to her own bosom.

The following day, Harry was gone before she had even woken up. More than likely to vent his frustrations during morning exercise.

Looking at her side, she saw that Luna was still grabbing unto her contently, slumbering. Fleur wondered when the last time was that the younger witch managed to sleep as peacefully as she was now. The young Veela fully remembered what it was like to sleep alone and afraid.

Before Harry.

It took one more hour for Luna to wake up.

"Good morning, birthday girl," whispered Fleur. "Did you rest well?"

Luna smiled tiredly. "It was quite wonderful."

"Well zen. 'Ow about I pretty you up for your special day?"

"I would be most thankful."

Luna was a very pretty girl, Fleur had noticed. Once she truly started to work on the blonde, that almost innocent and pure beauty began to radiate quite noticeably.

"What do you plan to do today?" asked Fleur as she started to craft Luna's hair into some wavy curls. Looking at Luna's reflection in the mirror, Fleur noticed a very small but very visible sadness appear

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I believe. I suspect that I would go to the forest once again to search for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Afterwards I'd go to the library to rent out a nice book, and then back to bed."

Fleur frowned. "What about your friends?"

Even through the dreamy smile, the French champion could see the sorrow in Luna's beautiful silver eyes.

"I'm afraid I have none of those. Friends are even more elusive than the Snorkacks," Luna said almost in a whisper but suddenly brightened her face when she looked at her own reflection. "My hair! It looks so pretty!"

Fleur smiled. "Of course, it looks pretty. You are a very pretty girl, Luna."

"Really? Megan and her friends always says that I'm really ugly."

Fleur scoffed. "They're just jealous zey will never be as pretty as you are. Pay no attention to zem."

"Are we done?" asked Luna.

"Not yet! I want to do somezing wiz you." Fleur guided the blonde witch over to one of the couches and took out a silver vial. Luna looked at it, confused.

"Don't worry, Luna. I'm just going to paint your nails and toes." Fleur opened the vial to show the silver colored liquid inside. "I zink silver goes well wiz you."

Luna smiled. "Just like your hair."

" _Oui_ , and just like your eyes."

It was during the improvised pedicure and manicure session, that Fleur truly started to speak about what was on her mind throughout the entire time.

"Luna," she said, grabbing the blonde's attention. "Why do want to be wiz us… wiz me and 'Arry?"

"I really like the both of you," responded Luna. "You are the closest people I have… aside from Daddy, of course."

"But Luna, why do you want to  _be_ wiz us? To do ze zings we do in private. Ze… bondage stuff."

It was then that Luna finally dropped that dreamy smile that seemed perpetually plastered on her face. She licked her lips and seemed to be thinking about what to say.

"I want to know."

Fleur furrowed her brow. "Know? About what?"

Luna looked back at her. "When I first saw you. You were miserable, quite miserable. You were always looking sad when you were not responding to the boys that wanted to ask you out," she started to say. "Until one night, I saw you and Harry walking at night and he had you on a leash."

Fleur blushed, remembering the night both she and Harry had met Luna quite clearly.

"I didn't think much of it at first, but then I saw you the day after that… you were happy! You were so happy after that!" Luna said excitedly. "And I got curious! So, I started to research, I started by asking Madam Pomfrey and she directed me to this muggle book on relationships. The more I read, the more I wanted to know."

Luna smiled again, looking deep into Fleur's blue eyes. "But there was not much, I'm afraid, and the only solution I managed to think about was to ask you and Harry… so I did!" The smile disappeared slightly. "But you both rejected me, so I started to investigate more and more about what I could do… because I wanted to be just like you."

The younger witch kept her gaze at Fleur. "I wanted to smile and be happy and pretty just like you. I wanted to know how it felt to be happy despite being under the control of someone… and I still want it… with the two of you – my most treasured people."

Fleur sat there, trying hard not to let her shock show to the blonde. She silently finished painting Luna's nails and toes and led her outside the room.

Her heart was thumping in sadness. Trying her best to ignore the memory of Luna's feelings, Luna's desires and hopes and wants.

Just like hers were before she met Harry.

Immediately after beautifying Luna, Fleur finally went over to the lake, where she knew Harry had gone to exercise. Even with the snow, the Gryffindor was still adamant in taking his regular morning runs around the large pool of water, something only Viktor Krum seemed adamant in doing as well.

"Hey, beautiful," Harry side while gasping slightly, cold mist erupting from his mouth as he drank in precious air.

" _Mon cheri_ ," Fleur responded. "We 'ave to talk."

Harry sighed. "Yes, we do. I assume you were unsuccessful in trying to get some sense into her."

"I don't zink Luna is someone who will let go of 'er ideals zat easily."

Harry grunted. "I guess I was expecting too much."

The both of them started to walk back to the castle, eager to get away from the frigid cold.

"Look… 'Arry." Fleur tried to find the correct words. "I zink you should try."

The Potter heir turned back to look at her with incredulous emerald eyes. "What?!"

Fleur sighed. "You 'eard me,  _mon amour_. I zink  _we_  should try."

"You can't be serious," replied Harry. "What brought this on? Fleur… I am happy with you… I – I love you."

Fleur smiled. "I know,  _mon chéri_. Zat is why I want us to try wiz Luna. She… said some zings 'Arry… I don't know what to say. I was moved by what she said."

"Fleur… think about what you are asking… you are suggesting that we enter a polygamous relationship. Think about that for a moment."

Fleur hugged him closely, breathing in his minty scent as she closed her eyes. "I know what I'm asking for, 'Arry. Please… let's just try to make a girl happy for once."

Harry looked deep in thought, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Alright," he finally said before cutting her off. "She will need to prove that she wants it, though. Tell her to come back tonight, tell her that she should be prepared."

Fleur kissed him passionately. "Zank you,  _mon chéri!"_

Fleur did not go back to the room the entire day. She took her day off in the library, making some final notes in the Hogwarts library, renting out dozens of books and trying her best to research the history of the Black Lake and what she would encounter down there in less than two weeks' time.

She did not see Luna until dinnertime.

The blonde had chosen to sit besides her. Fleur's friends looked on, confused, but she assured them that everything was fine.

"Luna," she said when her friends were distracted. "After zis you will come wiz me. Be prepared… and do yourself a favor – do not drink or eat too much. Only what you feel is necessary.

The blonde nodded enthusiastically, unable to keep the radiant smile from forming on her lips.

Fleur and Luna were some of the first people to leave the hall. Scurrying over quickly to the fourth floor and past the painting of the black knight. Before going through, Fleur turned back to gaze at the younger witch.

"Are you ready?" asked Fleur.

Luna nodded. "I am."

* * *

Harry was sitting in the couch, looking at the flames of the roaring fire in front of him, deep in thought about what was about to happen.

It seemed strange. A few months ago, he was just a fourth-year student with a bit of a penchant for domination. Granted, a fourth-year student who had had quite the number of brushes with death and an obsessed Dark Lord trying to kill him, but still.

Then he'd landed the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen as his submissive for their games. Life was looking up with Fleur. Every day was an adventure that seemed to never end.

If only he knew that adventures brought surprises. Some very interesting surprises indeed.

If Harry had been told those months ago that he was potentially looking forward to living a polyamorous lifestyle… well, Sirius would have encouraged him… but other than that, he'd never believe a word of it. Yet here he was now. His first girlfriend was cajoling him to take  _another_ girlfriend now.

It was strange how these little things come about in life.

Finally, Harry heard the door being opened. A sign that for the last months meant that he would be spending a lonely time with Fleur, but that reality was likely to change after tonight.

Standing up, he promptly smiled towards Fleur, and looked on at the younger witch she had brought.

"Luna," he said immediately. "After listening to Fleur, I have decided to give your  _proposal_  a chance."

In what Fleur felt was an extreme sense of déjà vu, Luna launched herself at Harry's chest, hugging him tightly. The young Veela had rarely ever seen someone be that happy before.

"Luna," Harry said again. "I said I would give you a chance. You are about to be put through some very hard stuff. Stuff I've never even tried on Fleur before." He waited, probably expecting a reaction from the younger witch. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"I am."

Harry nodded before walking over to the bed and showing a large and heavy garment to both witches.

It was a leather sleepsack, one that had originally been intended for Fleur's height but with some help with Transfiguration magic, Harry managed to shrink it down until it was more appropriate for Luna's petite form.

The whole ensemble was black in color, with the front being almost seamless. The back however, was where the wearer would find the entrance, which would be secured first by laces like it was a full body corset. After that, a heavy-duty zipper would entrap the prisoner even further inside the sleepsack. It was one of the most expensive things Harry had bought, but it was well worth the price.

Harry turned back to Luna, who had lost her dreamy smile – a rare occurrence – and had instead replaced it with wide but weirdly excited eyes and a slightly open mouth.

"Luna… you say that you're interested… that you want to join us." Harry saw Fleur starting to stroke the blonde slowly. "If that's the case, then we need to know that you are truly interested," said Harry while looking at Luna's silver eyes. "To be honest, I've never done something as intense as this with Fleur. You will be the first to experience this."

Luna was still staring at the rich leather sleepsack with fascination, licking her lips slightly like she was overwhelmed with a lustful hunger that needed to be satiated immediately.

Harry the walked over and stroked the Ravenclaw witch's face. "I need to know if you are ready for this. I need to know if you truly want this."

The younger blonde finally looked at his own green eyes and nodded her head. "I will… I really want it."

Harry nodded and then looked at Fleur. He saw his girlfriend smile and nod as well before giving out her orders to Luna. "Take off everyzing."

Without even hesitating for a second, the petite blonde immediately removed all of her clothes until she was a nude as the day she was born. No sign of embarrassment was present on her features, Luna was simply entranced by the leather sleepsack she would soon be encased in.

The Gryffindor saw that Fleur decided to join Luna in taking off her own clothing, more than likely as a sign of companionship and understanding so that the blonde may not feel intimidated by showing off her naked body. In Harry's opinion, it seemed as if the younger witch didn't need any encouragement.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" asked Harry and saw Luna shake her head. "Do you feel thirsty." Again, she shook her head.

Harry smiled before turning the sleepsack the other way to show the entrance. The opening started at the height which would correspond with Luna's knees, meaning that she would have to slip both of her feet inside.

"Step into it," commanded Harry, offering the entrance to Luna.

The young witch finally seemed slightly shaken but whether it was from fright or excitement, Harry did not know. A pale, trembling leg was raised and slowly sank the darkness. Fleur stood behind Luna and grabbed her shoulders in order to help stabilize her. The next foot joined the other quickly, the blonde's nervousness vanishing by the second.

Before he went any further however, Harry took a small a small stone and showed it to Luna.

"Luna," he said, breaking her stupor, "do you see this?" She nodded. "This is a runestone. You will hold it in your hand and you won't let it go." She nodded once again. "If you want this to stop – if you really want to stop – you will channel magic into this stone and I will know you want it to stop."

Harry gave the runestone to Luna and then ordered her to put her right hand, she took it with a smile and held it tight.

"Now, do you see these little sleeves at the side?" He showed the witch a couple of tight sleeves built in to the inside of the sleepsack, designed to cover the wearer's entire arms.

"Yes, Harry," Luna responded while shuffling her already trapped feet with excitement.

"Put your arms inside them."

Luna did so enthusiastically, taking even less time than when she did for her legs. The two arms slipped easily inside the leather sheaths. They looked smooth enough to be comfortable and allow easy circulation, yet also confining and offering no chance of escape once the entire piece was secured.

The entire piece of gear was almost fully done, it now covered the entire front of Luna's body. The only thing missing was to securing from the rear. For that, Harry immediately grabbed the blonde by the legs and swung her over his shoulder with ease.

Luna gasped softly. "Harry!" she exclaimed. From the side, Fleur giggled with amusement at the sight.

Harry chuckled but otherwise gave no response as he carried the Ravenclaw witch over the bed and laid her face down, revealing the long laces that would soon be tightened.

Before he did that though, Harry whispered to her ear, "Just so you know Luna, I fully expect you to shave from now on."

"Yes, sir."

Harry turned to Fleur. "It goes without saying, but that applies to you as well, beautiful."

Fleur smiled. "Of course,  _Maître."_

Behind them, Luna decided to chip in. "I want a pet name too!"

"Later," said Harry-

Smirking, Harry really got to work.

He grabbed the laces and rapidly started to tighten it up. It truly was almost like a full body corset, yet far more pliable and forgiving in its strictness. The piece of gear was designed to be comfortable, so he had little worries of Luna being harmed. Still, Harry took precaution and care when securing her. It would not do for him to cause harm to a person that had given him so much trust. He had not let go of this standard when playing with Fleur and Luna would be no different.

As the laces began to close and the sack sealed the witch entrapped in it's leathery prison, Luna's breath started to get more and more noticeable. Worried, Harry stopped momentarily, fearing that he was preventing the blonde's breathing.

It was in that moment that Fleur stepped in. Her nude form bending down to kiss Luna's cheek. The Veela's hand stroked the trapped witch's blonde hair softly. "It's intense,  _non_?" she said before giving her another kiss.

She turned back at Harry with a smile. "Go on, 'Arry. She's just excited, aren't you, Luna?"

Harry returned the smile. He should have known. The sack was specifically designed to be completely safe. Not to mention that he had etched several runes that would alert him if it was truly harming the wearer's, but he did not want to take any chances with Luna's health.

The Gryffindor began to tighten anew, until the last of Luna's lily white was completely swallowed by the black leather. He tied a quick and easy to untie knot at the base of Luna's neck before grabbing the zipper and tracing it to join the knot, practically hiding the tangle of laces underneath.

"How are you feeling, Luna?" asked Harry, patting down on the birthday girl's leather covered derriere.

"Delightfully helpless!" chirped Luna. Fleur giggled while continuing to caress the blonde's hair.

Harry chuckled as darkly as he could. "That's good Luna, because we're still not done."

There was a collar component of the sack that was built with it. Harry buckled it and secured a little padlock at the back of Luna's neck before turning her around.

Luna Lovegood was a sight to behold at that moment. Her elfin body was covered from neck to toe in quality black leather, a stark contrast to her pale white skin.

Said skin was not so white now, at least in her face, which was flushed red from the excitement. Heavy breathing accompanied the small movements of her chest, indicating that Luna was able to breathe perfectly well, even through the relentless bondage her body had been put through.

"Try to struggle," commanded Harry. "See if you can get out."

Luna smiled. "You know I can't, silly Master." Nevertheless, she tried to struggle playfully, her movements only allowing her to move a few inches before she stopped to breathe with some exhaustion.

"Alright, now to finish." Harry took out his wand and pointed towards the mummified form of Luna. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Slowly, Luna's encased body started to levitate, moving until it reached the desired destination – a black divan.

Harry released the spell, and promptly proceeded to add the last parts of Luna's bondage.

The sleepsack had one more feature that was forgotten, that being several D-rings that were embedded in both sides, as well as two on either shoulder, and one at the bottom where the trapped feet would be.

Harry had already placed the corresponding straps on the divan. There were thirteen in total. Five at each side, two for the shoulders, and one for the feet.

Harry looked over at Fleur before pecking her lips. "Care to help me, beautiful?"

"I'd be delighted to,  _Maître_."

The pair went on to tighten the straps in each of the rings, adding a small padlock to all of them. The ominous clicking of each one seemed to mark the further helplessness of Luna, who periodically tried to peek at either one of her sides to see the progress before slumping down again with small giggles.

"Let's see the Nargles try to take me away now," she said with an almost smug satisfaction.

Harry tightened the final strap – the one that secured her feet – and stood up to see the results of the hard labor.

The clerk at the store defined the ensemble as virtually inescapable, and while Harry was always keen on challenging the perceived absolutes when posed with them, inescapable was the correct word to use when he looked upon the sight of Luna completely bound in the divan.

The blonde girl tried to struggle once again, laughing while she did so. It was no use. If Luna had been able to move for a few inches before, that small amount of give was completely gone. The added straps allowed for only slight movements.

Luna tried to experiment moving her arms, but as before, the inbuilt sheaths prevented much of the movement, keeping them closely pinned to her sides. Her legs were similarly welded together, and with the strap securing the tip of her feet, even the basic ability to bend her knees was gone.

"You so 'ave to let me try zis," said Fleur, looking at the relentlessly bound form of Luna with complete fascination.

Harry whispered to her, "I also bought a latex one," eliciting a small squee from the French beauty.

The Gryffindor then turned back to the thoroughly bound blonde. "I hope you like your sleeping arrangements." Luna's eyes widened if only slightly. "You heard correctly," continued Harry. "This is how you will be sleeping tonight."

Harry's tone then turned serious. "This will be your little test, Luna. You have said that you wanted to join in our activities… but this is not a game for us, Luna." He put one arm around Fleur and tugged her close to him. "This is our life… our private passions."

The Gryffindor's gaze burned into the blonde's silvery eyes. "Do you know what Fleur did when we started going out together?" Luna stayed silent. "She signed a contract. One that essentially gave trusted her life to me. A slave contract. That was her level of commitment. Her promise of submission."

Harry sighed before crouching down and stroking Luna's forehead. "This can stop whenever you want – but…" he warned, "if you decide to activate the rune – we'll stop… as in, stop everything. You'll forget this ever happened and continue life as normal."

It may have been a harsh dilemma, but it needed to be said. This was just not a game for him and Fleur. It was so much more than that. If Luna wanted to join in to that special relationship he had forged with the French witch, then she would need to prove it.

The blonde kept looking at his green eyes before nodding shakily in affirmation.

"Say it, Luna," Harry commanded. "And look into my eyes when you do."

"I understand." Her silver eyes bore into him with an iron dedication. Harry had never heard the blonde say something as powerful as that.

"Very well, now let us finish this," said Harry as he revealed the final items that he would be using on Luna. On one hand, there were a pair of earplugs, and in the other, a leather blindfold.

He applied the earplugs first, which would render Luna virtually deaf. They were two pieces of soft and pliable rubber that would conform to the leather clad blonde's ear canals, leaving no space for sound to reach her.

Luna's breath started to get heavy again, no doubt because of the sudden cancelation of such a basic sense she's enjoyed virtually all the time since she had memory. The wide, silvery eyes looked at the blindfold in the Gryffindor's hand with some trepidation.

Harry hand then approached the blonde's cheek, his calloused palm caressed the submissive's cheek softly and assuredly. He never broke eye contact until the leather blindfold covered Luna's silver orbs in complete darkness.

Looking at Fleur, Harry did something most guys would never do in the presence of their girlfriends. He bent his head down and captured Luna's lips in his own in a reassuring kiss.

Luna's response to part open her mouth. She was desperate and inexperienced – a complete contrast to the more practiced Fleur – but she made up for it in pure eagerness. The Ravenclaw tasted like vanilla pudding, an odd flavor, but not unwelcome.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Fleur approach both of them and bend down, adding her own fingers to the caressing of Luna's hair. Wordlessly, she made to passionately kiss Harry, Luna's thoroughly bound form below them.

"She looks so pretty like zis,  _non_?" said Fleur once their lips parted, she still kept on tracing her delicate fingers all over Luna's pale blonde hair.

Harry smirked. "I do have to admit that it fits her," he looked at Luna. She was breathing calmly. "We'll have to wait if she can take it."

Fleur smiled in agreement.

Harry then turned to his girlfriend and looked at her seriously. "I just want to know if this is right… between the two of us. If Luna comes through, you'll no longer be the submissive I'll have. She'll be there with you… a sister of sorts."

Fleur sighed as she looked in his eyes. "I do admit zat it is just a little…  _risqué_ , so to say." She then looked back at the slightly struggling blonde. "But… when I see 'er like zis, and wiz you… I don't feel jealousy. I find zat you dominating 'er is a little arousing." She smirked back at him. "I will admit. I was 'alf wishing zat you would take 'er over your lap and spanked 'er like you did wiz me."

"Really?"

Fleur nodded. "I zink I would find ze sight of my man dominating another woman quite… enticing." The Veela then resumed caressing Luna's hair. "And I will say zat… I 'ave become quite fond of 'er… she 'as a way of worming inside your 'eart once you see through 'er quirks."

"Very well."

"What about you,  _Maître_?" she asked. "I will not be ze only one zat 'as to share. I expect zat you will also be sharing  _me_  wiz Luna."

Harry smirked. "I think I can handle two beautiful girls like the both of you together."

Fleur smiled happily before bending down and giving Luna a kiss of her own. The mummified blonde seemed to tell the difference between the Veela's soft lips and Harry's rougher ones, yet did not seem to care, parting her mouth to allow access to the French beauty's experienced tongue to enter, moaning periodically in arousal.

"Well… it has been an exhausting day. I think it's time for bed, don't you?"

"You put ze seals in ze sack?" a concerned Fleur asked.

Harry nodded. "Believe me. If Luna is in any danger at all, I'll know."

Fleur gave one last smile to Luna before pecking her again in the cheek and leaving to join Harry for the night.

**AN: Well, for all of you who wanted a little bit more in terms of Harry and Fleur's little games, I certainly hope I satisfied you here. There's still no full-blown intercourse, I want that to be a little special when it eventually happens.**

**Now we our favorite little oddball, Luna, in here. I initially wanted to start out with either Daphne or Susan first, but I think with how I wrote Luna and her evident interest in BDSM, she would be the first to join Harry and Fleur. Hope I did right by the characters.**

**Next chapter should finish with Luna's test and should be long enough to include the second task. I almost threw it in here in the end but decided that it wouldn't fit with the more romantic and kinky nature of the chapter, so it has been delayed until the next one.**

**Please leave a review. Favorite and follow if you like your story, and if you wish to interact with me more directly, send me a PM, or better yet, go to my Discord server. Link is in my profile. You'll get some news about my progress in the writing of the chapters as well over there. I can even share some of the images that gave me some inspiration to write the bondage scenes.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage.**


	13. Evil Fantasies

**“Harry Potter” belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Chapter 12.**

**I hope all of you Luna fans liked the last chapter. I hope you like this one even more.**

**Chapter song is “Evil Fantasies” by Judas Priest.**

**With that out of the way, enjoy the chapter.**

“Dialogue”

_‘Thoughts’_

_“Foreign Language”_

**A Godfather’s Promise**

**Chapter XII: Evil Fantasies**

Harry’s world returned to reality with the now familiar warm embrace of Fleur around his body. Previously, his girlfriend would opt to wear progressively more provocative garments. That small veneer of formality was now gone. The French Veela was as naked as the day she was born; skin glowing with the morning sun like a real-life Aphrodite. Perfectly formed breasts enveloped his arm. She had snagged it in the middle of the night.

Fleur was extremely clingy at night.

She never made a sound, always sleeping quietly. Harry himself did not know how much noise he made during the nights, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t the cacophonous car crash that Ron Weasley was. That at least was enough for Harry to not be bothered much by it.

Clearing the morning haze from his mind, he quickly remembered the other occupant in the room.

The wizard carefully pried himself away from his girlfriend’s grasp, replacing his form with a pillow. Fleur moaned but otherwise did not complain much.

Harry watched as Fleur took the pillow between the valley of her breasts. Long legs wrapped themselves around it, and the Gryffindor felt the unrelenting need to go back and take its place. He stilled himself, however. He had another responsibility to get to.

Luna was just as soundless in her sleep as Fleur was. She looked completely peaceful, at least with what little could be noticed considering a large part of her face was covered by the leather blindfold, yet the witch was still the very image of serenity.

A small part of Harry was worried that she wasn’t breathing properly. He knew it was foolish. Every precaution had been taken as to not endanger Luna’s life, but that did little to assuage concern.

The small movements on her chest calmed him, however, and he sighed in relief. If anything were to happen to Luna’s wellbeing, the diagnostic runes inscribed into the leather sack would have alerted him. She was just as calm as the night in her slumber.

With Luna’s state assured, Harry went over to get dressed for the day. Today would be quite long, it being Valentine’s Day would have been enough with only Fleur, but he had other issues to attend.

One of which was a getting a special gift he’d ordered for just this occasion.

The emerald-eyed wizard took a quick bath, then put on a pair of comfortable clothes, and walked out to see Fleur, already waking up.

The French beauty stretched her arms upward, displaying a pair of glorious breasts before focusing on Harry and giving him a woozy smile.

 _“Bonjour, mon chéri,”_ she said before noticing his state of dress. “Already leaving for ze day?”

“I have to run some errands,” responded Harry. “I imagine we’ll be having breakfast here, but I also must pick up a surprise from my godfather.”

“A naughty surprise, _Maître?”_ Fleur added saucily.

“Maybe,” teased Harry before he looked over at their guest. “You’ll need to stay here and look after her while I’m gone.” He looked at her seriously. “I know you’re not very much into being in charge – at least not in private matters – but I need someone to take care of Luna while I’m not here.”

Fleur nodded dutifully. “Of course, _Maître_ – you can trust in me, _non_?”

She stood up and made walked over to the bathroom. That was, until Harry stopped her.

“Hey beautiful… how about I give you your first present for the day?” asked Harry.

“You ‘ave somezing for me?” Fleur responded in feigned innocence. “I ‘ope it’s nozzing perverted, _mon chéri!”_

“Don’t put on anything after you’re done,” Harry whispered, before delivering a light swat to her exposed behind.

“ _Oui, Maître.”_

Harry’s attention then returned over to the big trunk underneath his bed, the one containing all those presents he had bought for their little games. Most of them were wrapped like presents, thankfully, he remembered their contents.

He took out two objects, one was packaged, the was not. One was for Fleur; the other would be used on Luna.

The piece of equipment looked like a ring, with two straps at either side, black in color. It was known as a ring-gag, and if fitted inside a person’s mouth, it would force it open.

He looked over a Luna, who was now beginning to shift slightly inside her bonds. The smile plastered on her lips told him that she was enjoying it. The girl was more resilient that he had thought. Most girls would either have fled or be struggling wildly by now, not being used to such deprivation of basic movements and senses.

Harry approached her slowly, taking in every single detail of the bound girl. Maybe with accidental magic the bonds could be undone, but if the person inside was a muggle, or if the witch was deprived of her wand, then it would be impossible to escape the heavy bondage they’d be in.

It was a risky move to introduce Luna in such a severe manner. Harry had gone to a restless sleep last night, worried that he might have been to harsh.

The fact that Luna seemed to revel in it was a relief.

 _‘She must be thirsty,’_ Harry thought and immediately eyed the water filled pitcher on the table and filled a cup. Carefully, he then placed himself besides the divan and started to caress Luna’s blonde tresses.

“Good morning, Harry… or Fleur!” Luna said, lightly moving her head towards the direction of Harry’s fingers.

Harry chuckled before gently lifting up Luna’s head and pressing the cup to her lips. Slowly, he made sure she drank the water, which the blonde did eagerly.

“Thank you,” said Luna after she finished the whole cup. Harry set it aside and continued to caress Luna’s blonde hair.

At times, his hand would wander over to the rich leather enveloping the witch’s body and smiled satisfactorily. The Gryffindor had asked for the highest quality leather, regardless of the cost… the store had been more than willing to supply him with such.

He grabbed the ring-gag and with pointed his wand at it, watching it decrease in size significantly, until it was safe to be worn of a good period of time without hurting the jaw.

Gently his fingers moved to the witch’s smiling lips and gently tried to pry them open. Luna responded by timidly sucking at them. Harry guffawed before trying again, this time more forcefully.

The Ravenclaw finally seemed to understand the order and she opened her mouth slowly. This done, it was a simple matter to maneuver the ring inside her mouth until it rested comfortably inside.

Luna tested the deceptively strong piece by repeatedly biting it, each time a little stronger, until she finally gave up, and then tried using her tongue to explore it while Harry maneuvered her blonde hair in order to secure the straps behind her neck.

The silver-eyed witch giggled loudly as she continued to play with her gag, alternating between using her tongue and futilely trying to close her open jaw. It did not open her mouth completely, given the reduced size, but it was definitely enough to make it impossible to close it.

The struggles soon spread down to her entire body. Luna examined how much she could move, which was reduced to merely a few centimeters if she tried really hard. Before long she gave up, and panted slightly through her open mouth.

Harry, smirking, continued to pet Luna’s hair softly. He was already getting excited from hearing Luna’s excited mewls. She was trying her best to move her head to the direction of Harry’s fingers, but was now unable to do anything but lay there helplessly.

It was an intoxicating feeling, having someone under your control in such a manner. It was even more gratifying that Luna – being her first session – already seemed to trust Harry in such a way that she did not protest even for a minute the further addition to her bondage.

“Thank you, Luna,” Harry whispered to the deafened girl, before continuing to run his fingers along her blonde hair.

Almost instinctively, Harry’s fingers went from the Luna’s hair over to her open mouth and slowly tried to pry into it. In a sight that reminded him of a lost puppy, she lightly started to lick at his digits while the sounds she made alternating between needy mewls and light giggles.

The opening of the bathroom door told Harry that Fleur had finished with her morning ablutions. Indeed, turning his head around, he beheld the sight of his girlfriend still drying her hair with a white towel, but was otherwise completely nude as he had ordered.

Fleur gazed at the dark-haired wizard seductively before her sight was captured by the added restraints that had been secured to their guest.

“What is zat?” the Veela asked excitedly.

“One of our toys… I had intended to use it for you first, but… you know – I thought it look great on our little crazy pet.”

“A ring-gag? What else ‘ave you ‘idden from me, _mon chéri?_ ”

“Well,” Harry smirked before grabbing the package he’d retrieved earlier and handing it over to an intrigued Fleur, “why don’t you open it, love?”

The French witch tore at the envelope like an overly enthusiastic child at Christmas. All dignity and composure that usually exuded from Fleur was gone as she revealed quickly tried to get at the present hidden within the box.

A small gasp was the first reaction, followed by a look towards Harry…then to the box again, before she carefully took out the expensive gift within.

“You didn’t…” Fleur gasped.

Harry’s laugh resounded across the room. “I sure did. I know how much you wanted one of those.”

With trembling fingers, Fleur took out two light blue garments – the same color as her Beauxbatons uniform – and looked at them clearly. They seemed to shine, almost reflecting the light around them. It was an odd garment that many people would be quite confused as to their nature yet Fleur held them almost like a priest would a communion chalice.

“’Arry… zis is…” Fleur tried to find the words, but was too entranced with feeling the rubbery garments in her hands that suspiciously looked like women’s underwear.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful.”

Fleur continued to look at her first pieces of latex clothes. A bra and panties, both of them in her favorite color. Harry grinned the entire time, smugly congratulating himself for his choice in gifts. _‘Though, I have to say – she’s not the only one who’s going to enjoy it. Do most guys who give their girlfriends underwear feel the same way?’_

“’ _Maître…_ zank you… zey are beautiful… I – what I mean to say is – “

“Try them on,” Harry encouraged. “There should be a bottle of lubricant inside the box that will make it easier. There’s also a manual on how to properly take care of it. The clerk at the store told me that it needs to be washed differently than most clothes.”

 _“Oui_. I already knew zat… still – eet is nice to ‘ave more instructions to clear any doubt,” said Fleur as she dug further inside the box to retrieve a black plastic bottle.

Harry’s manhood started to ache once again as he stared at Fleur carefully applying some of the clear liquid around upper legs and pelvis, until it took a slippery sheen that made her pale skin glow even brighter upon the morning sun.

Beaming, she then went on to grab the odd panties and began to pull it through both her legs and then upward like a it was a normal piece of underwear.

Turns out, that was the first mistake, latex did not stretch like most clothes did. As such, Fleur struggled in order to inch the panties closer and closer slowly, more than likely afraid that she might damage the blue garment. Every time she let go of them, there was a wet slap as the rubber impacted her wet skin, it almost groaned as she slowly and methodically pulled it closer and closer to her flower. The sounds were quite intoxicating when combined with the joyful giggles of the French beauty as she tried her best to put her gift on.

“Can you ‘elp me wiz ze _brassière_?” asked Fleur after she was finally satisfied with the position of her panties. With one hand, she held the other half of the set and in her lips, a sultry smirk.

Harry walked over to her and whispered, “As my lady commands.”

She then began to put on more of the lube around her breasts, making sure to give a good show to Harry as she spread it obscenely. No place was left uncovered, from the top of her bosom, to the underside, and her pale nipples.

The bra was a much simpler to put on compared to the panties, yet Fleur asked Harry to help her fasten it behind her back.

The rubber was strange to feel at first, yet not unpleasant. Harry was quite sure he could get used to touching the stuff very quickly. He would have to after all, considering just how much Fleur seemed to be in love with the stuff.

The store offered outfits that were way more elaborate – and expensive – than the lingerie. Harry had even bought Fleur a few more surprises. He would have to take her there one day to pick up what she wanted.

He was confident the Potter fortune could afford such lavish clothes, even if it was Fleur.

Maybe…

With a one quiet snap, the ensemble was finally complete, and Harry stepped back in order to behold the sight.

There was still a slight dullness to the look, a stark contrast to the pictures in some of the ads on the box. Those were far shinier. Fleur however, seemed to know how to fix that.

Once again, she took the bottle of lubricant (Harry was now beginning to understand why the store clerk recommended buying additional ones) and poured the clear liquid into her hands. She rubbed them around the latex, and it started to take on the characteristic shine the fetish garments were renowned for.

Fleur looked magnificent in them, an opinion she seemed to agree with considering the way she modeled and posed in front of the full body mirror. The beaming smile seemed to never fall off her lips as she continued to fix any creases that might have formed, or spreading the liquid where any dullness might still be present.

“How does it feel?” Harry finally asked. “Is it as good as it looks?”

“Eet’s… tight,” answered Fleur. “But not in a bad way. Almost like it’s constantly ‘ugging me. Eet’s almost as eef ze rubber wants to fight my movements. Eet really digs into you…”

The latex clad Veela took a few steps, exaggerating the movements on her chest and between her legs, experimenting with the feeling. Every once in a while, Fleur would trace them with her fingers, teasing herself. By the end, she looked a little flustered and was breathing slightly heavier.

“So… you like it?”

Fleur twirled like a ballerina with a musical laugh, before finally turning towards Harry. “Like eet? I love eet!” She hugged and kissed the raven-haired wizard. “Zank you so much, _mon amour!_ ”

Harry grinned as his hand lightly groped her generous bum. “I still have so much left to give you… you’ll just have to be… patient until I come back.” He gave a light swat to the latex covered cheek, earning him a playful moan.

“I can’t wait, _Maître_.”

“Good… now!” Harry announced, changing to a serious tone. “I’m going out for a couple of hours – I’ll make sure to get breakfast when I’m done – but until then, I need you to keep an eye on Luna.”

Fleur seemed unsure of herself, uncomfortable by the request. “’Arry… I don’t know…”

Harry grabbed her chin softly and their eyes met. “I know you don’t like being in control in private,” Fleur nodded slightly, “but I am sure you will make a good job… you just have to make sure that she’s comfortable with everything. Check the stone by the bed – it’ll show you if anything is wrong. Also, count half an hour and give her a bit of water.”

The wizard took a deep breath. “Just… you have to – er… you need to find the best way to care for her.”

Fleur nodded. “Like you take care of me, _oui?_ ”

“Exactly.”

“Vairy well, ‘Arry… I will give eet a try.”

“Thank you, beautiful. If you do a good job, I’ll reward you with some more presents,” Harry teased.

Fleur licked her lips. “I’ll be good, _Maître._ ”

“Right… also,” he added, smirking, “don’t put any more clothes on… I think I kind of like seeing you in latex.”

“Believe me, _mon_ _cheri_ , I don’t even _want_ to put anyzing else on.”

He was sure Fleur would make a good job in taking care of Luna. Even if his girlfriend was not sexually dominant, her kind nature was a good supplement to look after another submissive. The fact that it was another girl would make it easier for both subs to communicate easily – even if one of them was unable to talk.

With a quick kiss and a farewell pat to Luna’s head, Harry finished putting on his winter clothes and set off to his business.

* * *

It was simple at first to take care of Luna. Given that Fleur needed to pen a delayed letter to Gabrielle, she doubted that there’d by much distraction from the heavily bound Ravenclaw.

So, the Veela sat down on her table – which she had moved so that’d she’d always have a clear view of Luna while she was busy – promptly grabbed her elegant quill and a piece of parchment, and started to write.

Fleur hadn’t even finished the first paragraph when she started to fill the effects of her new rubber lingerie.

She hadn’t been lying when she said that it felt like her sexual areas were being hugged. More than that, it was as if the latex was fighting her every movements. With most clothes, people get used to their presence so that their minds don’t even register as they’re being used in every day life. Not so with this set of underwear, for she noticed it almost constantly, like if Harry’s hands were constantly groping her.

It didn’t help that, because of its lack of elasticity, the latex panties felt as if they were giving her a constant rubbing of her sacred cavern, digging into her folds incessantly.

Before she knew it, caressing her breasts and womanhood replaced writing to her little sister in priority. She could almost feel the heat that was being trapped inside the rubber each time her digits passed over her core.

It became even worse when Luna started to giggle.

The noises were cute, but became more noticeably arousing as they went on. The rustling of metal and creaking of leather were next, which only increased Fleur’s horniness. She didn’t even notice when she’d stopped paying attention to the letter and concentrated fully on the bound blonde.

At first, it was only a matter of rubbing herself to satisfy the desire, but the demands to get closer to Luna increased with every single moan. The groanings of her own rubber clothes were soon added to the symphony of pleasure and lust. Almost automatically and uncontrollably, Fleur stood up shakily and walked over to where the black clad figure struggled playfully.

Unable to restrain her desires anymore, the French witch frantically snatched her wand and aimed it at one of the ornate couches that were part of the improvised living room and immediately levitated it, drawing it closer to herself and setting it down besides the divan where Luna’s leather encased body lay.

Fleur sat down on the comfortable chair, her eyes never leaving the blonde, who was still breathing calmly in the intense bondage. She positioned herself as best she could while her latex covered crotch seemed to ache with unrelenting need.

Once she had settled herself as best she could, Fleur’s fingers immediately went over to tend to her womanhood, setting aside the rubber that currently covered it.

Most clothes that people wore were made out of cloth, wool, or another absorbable material for a reason. It absorbed bodily secretions like sweat and was eventually let to dry out naturally. Latex did not such thing; it retained those same secretions within its confines. So, when Fleur’s fingers dug inside the blue rubber panties, she immediately felt the accumulated wetness of her arousal.

Fleur was not bothered by it. In fact, it made the situation even more exciting for her as she stared at Luna, digits now tracing her shaved mound unabated.

With a giggle, Luna them mysteriously fell silent and started to breathe normally, almost as if she had fallen asleep. Being that the blonde was so quiet in her slumber, the rise and fall of her petite chest was the only sign that she was still breathing.

It looked as if Luna was in a state betwixt waken and dormancy. It reminded Fleur of articles she had read of Muggle monks in the east that could achieve another state of being though pure concentration.

 _‘Could it have anything to do with being deprived of so many senses at the same time?’_ Fleur wondered.

She remembered achieving something similar when Harry had spanked her all those nights ago. That time, she had forgotten about everything and was only concentrated on the pain and pleasure that her boyfriend’s hand was bringing her.

Fleur was a little embarrassed to say it, but she secretly yearned to be spanked again after that time.

Nervous, she wanted to see if Luna was still reacting alright. The French witch knew that the stone by her desk was enchanted to let her know if the petite Ravenclaw was in any trouble, but doubt still clouded her mind.

She was too horny, however, to let her hands leave her pleasure points, and so opted to use other means.

Gingerly, Fleur laid her bare feet on the leather that covered Luna’s stomach, letting her soft soles feel the rich leather that so thoroughly confined the petite blonde in it’s tight embrace, she never stopped teasing her throbbing core.

Luna seemed to notice the contact, giggling lightly and attempting to struggle. Attempting being the key word – the birthday girl could barely move a couple of millimeters before the unrelenting grasp of the leather restraints stopped her from moving any further, and returned the silver-eyed witch back to her original position.

The struggling aroused Fleur even more. She wildly imagines herself in Luna’s place – thoroughly bound and robbed of sight and sound, mouth forced open to accept anything that Harry would decide to introduce inside. Being completely helpless in every single respect as her beloved Maître shoved his formidable manhood into her gagged throat.

Absorbed in her fantasies, Fleur’s right foot started to wander, dragging itself across the leather and inching ever closer to Luna’s face – what was left of it, at least – until the French witch eventually settled it on top of the blonde’s chin.

Luna almost immediately reacted to the new stimulus. Being deprived of her senses for such a long time must be finally taking their toll. It started by trying to move her head, but it was hard for her to move her head upward, it seemed to be pretty tiring as well.

The French witch’s left hand went to her breast, touching the stiffening nipples underneath the light blue latex brassiere as she watched Luna come to terms with the new sensation and using one of the remaining senses she had left and started to sniff through her nose.

The French Veela raised an eyebrow but grinned mischievously and shuffled her foot closer to the blonde’s nose, observing as Luna continued to inhale in the scent, scrunching her nose but never once opting to breathe in from her mouth.

Fleur had always made sure to take extreme care of her own body, especially when it came to matters of personal hygiene. Flowery scents where almost a constant with her, something that Harry seemed to be pleased by. But even then, there were areas where it couldn’t be helped, even for Veela. Foot odor was never too strong with her, but it was still present as it was in every person. She took it as a compliment then, that Luna did not seem to be turned off by it.

Suddenly, her thoughts were broken by a wet sensation on her sole. Instinctively, she pulled her foot away from Luna’s face and back to herself, only to see the blonde’s tongue extended from her open mouth. The Ravenclaw whined slightly once Fleur ripped her foot away, like a child whose toy had been taken away, she struggled once again, and like last time, all movement was restrained absolutely.

Breathing heavily, Fleur curled her manicured toes, still feeling the wetness from Luna’s tongue. She was surprised that the blonde would actually do such a thing. The French witch had heard of people doing such an activity with feet, but the idea that the innocent looking Ravenclaw would be one of them was definitely a shock.

_‘You’re such a dirty girl, Luna.’_

Curiosity and arousal won in the end. Tugging at her breast even harder, Fleur slowly moved her foot back to Luna’s face, placing it once again atop the girl’s ring-gagged mouth. The leather-bound girl squealed excitedly before her tongue once again darted to lick the offered treat, lathering it in warm saliva.

It was a strange feeling at first, but Fleur would be lying if she said that it didn’t get quite enjoyable after she got used to it. If Luna’s cute moans were any indication, the feeling was mutual. She felt the tongue continue to explore her sole slowly, as if the blonde wanted to savor every single inch. The champion saw the bound girl try to move her restrained neck, attempting to explore more.

 _‘That’s right Luna… keep going.’_ Fleur started to move her foot slowly. She noticed that Luna’s breath was getting a little heavier due to the effort she put in moving her body upwards and decided to help the hungry blonde. It was a small price to pay for the pleasurable sensations the Ravenclaw’s delightful little tongue was bringing her.

Fleur’s fingers returned to rubbing her slit. The delicate motions steadily became more frantic around her core. Her other hand now pinched hard on the hardened nipple

The other foot soon followed the first, and Luna was no less enthusiastic in her oral ministrations. For want of lustful mischief, she even forced her toes inside Luna’s mouth, engaging in a playful battle with the younger witch’s tongue.

It didn’t take long for the combined stimuli to finally reach its inevitable conclusion. After just a few minutes of pleasure, Fleur let out an involuntary scream of pleasure as her juices flew out, landing mostly in the hand that she had used to pleasure herself.

The pale-haired Veela panted, trying her best to regain consciousness after the self-induced orgasm. _‘Luna… I have to take care of Luna.’_ She steadied herself slowly on the comfortable chair, womanhood wet from the climax.

Fleur examined her hand – which was now almost completely covered in her love juices – and immediately went on to taste her own syrupy essence. She could still feel Luna servicing her feet despite the orgasm. The blonde just seemed to be unrelenting in her hunger for stimulation.

It was then that Fleur suddenly got a very naughty idea.

The sliver-haired Veela removed her foot from the blonde’s face and shakily stood up on wobbly legs, still breathing erratically as she wordlessly advanced over to Luna, who’s tongue was raised in the air, more than likely waiting to continue servicing Fleur’s feet. Either that or she was waiting for some more water… the cute moans more than likely meant the former.

Like she had done with her foot, Fleur first placed her trembling wet hand in front of Luna’s nose and as before, there was no protest from the odd girl, she merely offered her small, pink tongue once again.

Fleur slowly fed the open mouth her fingers, watching as the tongue gently grazed them at first before retracting back. She figured Luna was trying to give it a taste before digging in completely, much like she had done earlier with the Veela’s feet. It only took a small amount of time before the tongue darted back out, practically begging for more.

Fleur grinned mischievously before feeding the eager girl practically all of her fingers and watched in fascination as Luna began to lick them without rest, her tongue not resting until every single drop of the French beauty’s essence was completely cleaned out.

The Veela retracted her hand, satisfied with the impromptu cleaning, yet once again her nether regions began to pulse with need. Slowly but surely, Fleur sensed the wetness beginning to simmer inside the rubber clad panties. Despite the cold outside and her state of dress, the French beauty could not help but sense the overwhelming heat that surrounded her entire body, something that usually only happened when she was in the presence of her beloved _Maître._

The excitement once again took over Fleur’s being. She snapped the rubber to the side, exposing her sweltering love box, and then put herself above the leather-bound girl, so that her womanhood was poised directly above Luna’s open mouth.

Gently, she descended, the excitement was still not overwhelming enough that she forgot about Luna’s state. It did not take long until she felt Luna’s heavenly tongue come into contact with her throbbing pussy.

There was no hesitation from the blonde this time. As soon as Fleur felt Luna’s tongue, it quickly started to worship the Veela’s folds.

“ _Mon Dieu!”_ gasped Fleur, trying her best to stabilize her body as the blonde continued to provide ceaseless ministrations to the Veela.

Divine was the only word to describe the feeling. Clearly inexperienced, Luna still made up for in eagerness. During the entire time, she never once stopped stimulating Fleur’s womanhood. The encased girl seemed completely insatiable, Fleur could swear that she felt each and every millimeter of Luna’s excited tongue exploring her sacred flower.

_‘More…’_

It did not take long for Fleur to orgasm yet again. Pure pleasure coursed through her very being in and earth-shattering climax. The Veela made sure to lower her wail of pleasure, through the haze of arousal, she had forgotten that she didn’t cast any soundproof charms before giving in to her desires.

This time, her essence was received almost completely by Luna, who did not seem bothered in the least. In fact, she almost took pleasure in making sure to clean her caretaker’s womanhood completely.

When Fleur was satisfied, she pulled herself away from Luna’s mouth and covered her mound back with the blue latex panties, satisfied moans leaving her mouth automatically as the rubber went back to tease her satisfied core.

Once the post-orgasm haze left her, Fleur reached behind her partner’s gag and undid the buckle, followed by both earplugs. She left the blindfold on however.

“Hello, Fleur. How are you today?” said Luna as if nothing at all had transpired previously.

“Ah… _b-bonjour_ , Luna,” Fleur greeted, still a little shaken from the orgasm. “Are you alright?”

“Never better.” The Ravenclaw licked her lips as if trying to savor every last bit of a particularly delicious feast.

“Are you cold?”

“Nope! It’s warm and fuzzy in here. Quite comfortable, really.” She wiggled as much she could to emphasize her point. “That was the best night I’ve had in quite some time.”

“Right… sorry by ze way.” Fleur could almost feel the inquisitive gaze behind the black blindfold. “For… err… forcing you to do zat with my feet and my… um –”

“Vagina,” Luna stated bluntly, in the innocent way only she could pull off.

“ _Oui_ … sorry for zat.”

 “Oh, believe me – it was a very pleasurable experience. You are quite delicious.”

Fleur did not know how to think about that compliment.

“You’d better be careful to not let the Flabbering Fleshticks get to close to you… they’ll eat you whole!” continued Luna.

“I’ll be sure to be careful,” responded Fleur, still stroking the blonde’s cheek. “I will be putting ze gag back on. Are you comfortable wiz eet?” Luna nodded. “Vairy well. Zat stays on zen… so will ze earplugs.”

“Please. They are utterly enjoyable.”

“Anyzing else?”

“Nope!”

Fleur grinned before taking the small, black plugs and carefully stuffing them back inside the blonde’s ear canals, blocking all sound.

Luna remained calm and quiet, so much so that Fleur believed she had fallen asleep. The miniscule struggles that the younger witch had put up earlier were gone now. Perhaps the bound girl was satisfied after having serviced her partner’s lovebox? Could anyone be satisfied by servicing their partner?

Fleur would need to find out when Harry came back.

* * *

It took longer than Harry had expected for him to return back to Fleur and Luna. He had already planned to go to Hogsmeade first in order to get the more innocent present he’d asked Sirius to get for his girlfriend.

“Here you go,” said Sirius, the omnipresent smirk was somehow even more evident as he gave his godson a gift-wrapped box.

“Thanks for the trouble, Padfoot.” Harry took the gift and placed it inside his bag. Considering the weather, he was pretty sure nothing would really happen to the treats that lay inside.

Sirius blew an impressed whistle. “That’s a mighty gift for just some lady,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows at Harry. “When can I meet this wonderful witch that has my godson buying the most preeminent chocolate in all of Britain?”

“Never, if you don’t stop pestering me about it,” responded Harry as he took another sip of butterbeer.

“Oh, come on,” guffawed Sirius. “I need to know if this girl is good enough for my one and only heir, after all.”

“She’s more than ‘good enough’, Sirius.”

The Black lord put up his hands defensively. “I know, I know… I just want to meet the girl who’s gotten you in such a good mood lately. You’re improving at a great pace in our training sessions and I don’t doubt that Ms. Delacour is to be thanked for it.”

Harry raised his eyebrow. “I don’t believe I ever told you that she was my girlfriend.”

“Oho! It’s ‘girlfriend’ now!? I didn’t know things had gotten so… _serious_.”

“Your puns are awful.”

Sirius chortled a laugh. “It wasn’t hard to figure out – the rumor mill has been wild that Harry Potter has been seduced by a French Veela so gorgeous that she makes even straight witches feel hot below the neck.”

Harry grumbled as he took yet another sip.

“Not to mention that Rita Skeeter has been going through story after story about it,” continued Sirius. “I wouldn’t be surprised if at some point Dominique Delacour decided to intervene and file for a defamation lawsuit.”

Anger started to well inside Harry again – a feeling that he’d been forgetting since he and Fleur got together. That damnable gossip-monger had been a plague ever since the very first they he’d met her. Especially since she’d been making it a point to constantly defame his wonderful girlfriend.

“One of these days we’re really going to have to deal with that woman,” said Harry.

“Don’t worry too much about it – it hasn’t affected your relationship with her, has it?”

Harry smiled. “No… it hasn’t,” he said. “Hell. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even have remembered her.”

“Too busy being led away astray by your beautiful girlfriend?” taunted Sirius.

“Perhaps…”

“Anyways, I’ve kept you here long enough. Go enjoy the day of love with your girl,” said the hound Animagus before going back to his own drink. Harry hadn’t even left the Three Broomsticks before his godfather was already chatting jovially with two witches at another table.

The next delay happened when he was walking back to the castle. Through the ice and snow, he managed to spot the hulking form of Hagrid pacing back and forth while holding a crudely packaged gift in his massive hands. When Harry got close enough to greet the half-giant, he noticed that Hagrid was in fact muttering to himself.

“… made ‘em meself this mornin’. Hope yeh like them… no! Think o’ summat different! Ah –“

“Good morning Hagrid,” Harry interrupted, trying not to laugh at the sight of such an imposing person bumbling back and forth.

“Oh… good mornin’ ter yeh, Harry! Wha’ are yeh doin’ this early?”

Harry showed the gentle giant his neatly packaged present. “Getting something from Sirius… what are you doing, Hagrid?”

Hagrid looked at his own package like a kid being caught dipping his hand in the cookie jar. “Er… nothin’…jus’ some – err… deliv’ries I have pendin’ since las’ week.”

“Really… anything to do with new magical creatures?”

Err… now tha’ I think abou’ it… I do have ter tend to tha’ wounded unicorn tha’ I stumbl’d upon a couple days back.”

Harry was actually surprised. A unicorn had been wounded? Memories of his first year came flooding back to him when Voldemort’s shade was suckling the silver blood from a murdered unicorn. Firenze the centaur had mentioned that bringing harm upon such a pure creature was one of the lowest moral crimes a witch or wizard could undertake. Only those corrupted with darkness could go ahead and do the evil deed.

“Who do you think could have done such a thing, Hagrid?”

“I dunno ter be hones’. It’s strange tha’ someone would want ter harm such a misunderstood creature. If a unicorn has been harmed, then it means dark stuff is involved, be certain of tha’.”

A feeling of regret started to gnaw at Harry. For some reason he started to think back on Luna – probably being taken care of by Fleur back at their room – and the situation he’d left her in. Bound and speechless with only a small stone being the only way to communicate any discomfort.

A stone he’d almost threatened her not to use.

“Have you told Dumbledore about this? He’ll want to know!” he said finally, trying to ignore the feeling of disgust with himself that was slowly brewing insde.

Hagrid shook his head. “Haven’ been able to see the Headmaster… too busy with them Ministry folk ‘cause of the Tournament… I’ll be cheerin’ fer yer by the way!”

Harry smiled appreciatively. “Thanks Hagrid. Was anything taken from the unicorn? Was the perpetrator after something?”

“Didn’ notice anythin’ missin’. Guess he got scared tha’ he’ll get caught. Even poachers won’t go after unicorns… they’ll know better than ter take advantage of one,” said Hagrid while shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“Unicorns are pure creatures, Harry. So much so tha’ they’ll give other some of their magical features like their hearstrings or hair fer wands… but when they give them, it’s a thing of trust. Takin’ them away or abusin’ a unicorn is a foul deed tha’ will follow you the rest of yer days. Yer have ter be humble and patient with a unicorn.”

A deep pit started to form within Harry’s stomach. He ignored it at first, trying to justify it, but every second seemed to make him feel worse.

The Gryffindor briefly compared a unicorn to Luna – a witch who had trusted him so and he had been too rough with her this morning. He’d even threatened and blackmailed her to not use the “safe word”. The blonde seemed to be accepting and even happy with the addition of the gag, but Harry wondered how much that had been influenced by fear of being cut away from both Fleur and himself.

“I made a mistake… again,” Harry muttered to himself. He’d abused Luna, there was no mistake of it now. She had trusted him, and he’d failed.

“Wha’ was tha’, Harry?” asked Hagrid, still trying to make the clumsily made package look slightly more presentable.

“Nothing… by the way,” he thrust a couple of galleons into the half-giant’s massive hand, “Honeydukes is selling some great stuff today… why don’t you go ahead and see if there’s anything you like.”

“Harry, I can’t accept this –“

“Gotta go, Hagrid! See you at the second task!”

The Gryffindor sped up to the castle and went to the kitchens as quickly as his legs allowed him to. The elves were kind enough to give him more than enough for breakfast. They even gave him some chocolate pudding after a special request.

With the meals in tow, he started to walk over to the stairs. There were a few students that were lazily going down to the Great Hall to catch breakfast. Since it was a Saturday, many students preferred to sleep in.

Finally, Harry got to the painting of the black knight in front of his room and gave out the password, making sure that nobody was there to listen beforehand. He hurried inside, his heart beating furiously in dread at what had happened to Luna while he was gone.

“Welcome back, _mon chéri_!” said Fleur, sitting behind the desk. She had apparently moved it so that she could keep an eye on Luna.

His girlfriend immediately stood up and went over to him. She was still wearing that set of light blue rubber underwear and nothing else. Harry marveled at how the material seemed to cling to Fleur’s body like a second skin.

“Hey… brought breakfast.” He laid the contents he’d been carrying on the table, along with the gift-wrapped parcel. “And another present.”

“You are spoiling me today, _Maître.”_

“I love spoiling my girl,” said Harry, his finger went down and started to lightly tug on the waistband, stretching carefully, “especially when it makes her looks so sexy.” He let go of the latex, letting it snap back to Fleur’s skin.

Fleur giggled. “You ‘ave anyzing else for your Fleur today, _mon chéri_?”

“Later,” Harry said firmly and took a more serious tone once he looked back at the still bound form of Luna, laying completely still on the divan. It was still an incredible sight, but mixed in with the arousal was a massive wave of regret.

He walked over to the Luna and quickly undid the ring-gag, setting it aside. The blonde did not say a word, merely tested out closing her jaw. If there was any indication of harm, she did not show it. This was a small relief, but the green-eyed wizard still continued on unabated.

The blindfold was next. Silver eyes blinked a few times in order to get used to the light, before settling on Harry and Fleur.

He followed by taking off the earplugs. It was then that Luna finally found her voice.

“Thank you, Harry,” Luna sighed, her characteristic dreamy smile quickly formed on her face.

“Hey Luna… are you alright?”

“I believe that I am doing quite well,” Luna responded in a sing-song voice.

Harry nodded. “Right… let’s get this off you.” With a wave of his wand the little locks started to undo themselves one after another. Another wave and the little metal contraptions were removed from the straps that secured the sleepsack to the divan and levitated towards a little nearby table.

“You don’t have to take it off, Harry,” Luna said. “It’s quite comfy in here, all things considered.”

The green-eyed wizard did not respond, he simply grabbed the petite witch – not that hard considering she weighed even less than Fleur, even with the heavy leather apparatus – and carried her over to the bed like he’d done yesterday. Once she was face down and the restraints were revealed, a spell made sure to release the blonde from the imposing, black device.

“Did I pass the test?” Luna asked, her protuberant, silver eyes watching him expectantly. She was still nude, seemingly unperturbed upon being seen without clothes.

“Luna… I’m sorry,” said Harry.

“Sorry for what?” the blonde asked dreamily.

Harry looked at the sleepsack – completely slack since its prisoner was now free – and then back to Luna, who was still holding the rune covered stone he’d given her last night.

“I was an ass to you,” he said, looking into those curious bright eyes of hers. “I should have treated you better… asked you what you wanted to do. Instead, I forced you to do something that I hadn’t even done to Fleur. I even threatened you not to use the stone!” Behind him, he felt Fleur put a consoling hand atop his shoulder.

Luna looked down at the stone in her hands, then back at him. “I was having fun… but I think I wanted to have fun with the two of you. It was delightful to completely let go of reality for once though.”

“Even if you enjoyed it, it doesn’t make it right on my part… I abused you, Luna. I thought only about myself and what _I_ wanted. Only right now did I figure out that I never once considered your feelings and wants – I was a complete bastard.”

“’Arry _,”_ said Fleur, hugging him from behind. “We all make mistakes. Eet is unavoidable, what is important is zat we learn from zem… and to try our best to not repeat zem again. Maybe you made a mistake, but zat does not make you a bad person. Eet just makes you a person.”

Harry smiled sadly, feeling a little better. His gaze returned back to the quiet witch. “I’m sorry Luna. Fleur and I…” he took hold of Fleur’s arms. “… we’re a pretty new and inexperienced couple – still learning the ropes. If you don’t want to continue with us, that’s fine…”

“No!” she yelled. “I want to continue with you… I really want to!”

“Are you sure, Luna?”

“I’m sure!”

Harry grabbed her small hand and caressed it. “Very well,” he said. “What do you want to do today then? You get to choose – consider it your reward for being so brave.”

Luna lips puckered slightly, and she put a finger on her temple – the classical sight of a person deep in thought.”

“Well,” she finally said. “I really want to see the two of you. Just like you have when you’re having one of your fun times.”

“I thought you wanted to join?” Harry asked, confused at the request. Then again, this was Luna Lovegood.

“Daddy always says that observing and listening is the best way to learn,” Luna answered, as if reciting the wisdom of an ancient Greek philosopher.

“Well… I guess we cannot go against a parent’s wisdom,” said Fleur, who had been mostly silent up until now. So much so that it seemed like Luna had finally taken notice of the older witch and her… unusual attire.

“That looks amazing!” exclaimed Luna, her wide eyes fascinated with the shiny lingerie.

“Zank you,” Fleur said while tracing her hands across her breasts. “Eet was a gift from _Maître_.”

“Can I have some too?” Luna asked.

 _‘Why do I feel like the Potter vaults are begging for mercy right now,’_ Harry thought. “Maybe later. Do you just want to watch or do you want… something else?”

“Hmm… I want to be tied up!” chirped Luna.

“Alright then. I wanted to give this spell a try for sometime now. How about you sit down on that chair over there and put your hands in the armrests?”

Luna did just that, sitting down on one of the comfy looking chairs that was moved for some reason or another, putting her arms of the padded armrests.

Harry took out his wand and pointed chanted, “ _Incarcerous!_ ” From the tip, two strands of soft, black rope shot out and aimed directly at Luna’s hands, rapidly binding them to the armrests and tying themselves in a knot.

When it was finished, Luna tested the strength of the restraints by tugging at them, but they had very little give.

“Too tight?” asked Harry.

“Not at all. Just tight enough.”

Harry nodded. “Very well. Now… before we start. I don’t want this mistake to be repeated again. I need to know what your safewords are.”

“Safeword?” asked Luna.

“A word you say when you want to stop what we’re doing if you can’t take it. Just think about the stone I gave you… that kind of thing.”

“But I don’t want to stop!” Luna exclaimed.

“Just taking safety precautions. Think of one word that you won’t say by accident.”

“Hmm… I know! Quibbler!” the Ravenclaw finally said.

“That’s… quite a word. Most people just go for a color,” said Harry.

Luna smiled. “Quibbler is Daddy’s magazine, and it always makes me feel happy and safe when I read it.”

It made sense. Coming from Luna Lovegood, at least.

“What about you, beautiful?” asked Harry, turning his gaze over to Fleur.

“ _Froid,_ ” she said simply. Harry was about to ask further before she said. “We Veela are creatures of warmth and intimacy, _mon chéri_.”

“Alright then… shall we start?”

Fleur visibly shivered in anticipation. “What do you want to do wiz your Fleur zis night, _Maitre_?”

“How about another present?” Harry teased while going over to the large chest that contained their equipment. “How about you kneel down and close your eyes?”

“ _Oui_!” responded Fleur before doing exactly that. She even put both of her hands behind her head, giving Harry a full view of her body.

Harry rummaged through the giant, black chest. The sleepsack had taken much of the space available, but there were many, smaller pieces of gear that he’d bought. Excitement was screaming for him to try out some of the stricter objects, but he quickly controlled himself when he remembered about Luna. Deciding himself, he picked out four smaller things and closed the container.

They were leather cuffs, two for the wrists, and the other two for the ankles. He’d been informed that despite their look, they were quite comfortable to wear thanks to the padding on the inner side.

“Stand up,” Harry ordered.

Fleur followed his command, still keeping her hands behind her head while she left her kneeling position and stood upright, eyes firmly closed.

“Hands,” said Harry, and immediately grabbed one of her arms the moment Fleur obeyed.

Once the cuff had enveloped her wrist, he closed it with the help of a strap. A small hole in the prong allowed for a lock to be fitted through, preventing the small buckle from being undone by anyone other than the keyholder.

That or magic – but Fleur never used her wand in their games. She trusted him so.

The other wrist soon followed the first. Two, wider cuffs were applied to her ankles. The black leather contrasted with her pale skin nicely.

“Open your eyes, beautiful.”

Fleur’s sapphire orbs concentrated first on him, and then to her restraints. She smiled at first, before she started to move her wrist, more than likely to test them.

“Comfy?” he asked.

“Very.”

“It’s been a tiring morning… why don’t you go back to bed, sweetheart?” Harry offered.

“What eef I don’t’ want to go to bed, _Maître_? Fleur challenged.

Harry held up the box he’d gotten earlier. “Then you won’t get your present.”

“Tease.”

“You know you love it when I tease you.”

Fleur answered by very slowly and seductively crawling on the bed, making sure to sway her latex clad derriere with ever movement she made, until she turned around and sat in the center.

Harry took grabbed the leather blindfold he’d used on Luna previously and showed it to Fleur. “You’re gonna have to guess your present for a little longer, beautiful.”

Fleur made a cute pout. “You are delaying zings, _non_?”

“Look at it like a carefully made meal. Too quickly and it’s raw and nasty. Linger too long and it will be burnt and tasteless.”

“Comparing me to food now, _Maitre?_ ” responded Fleur. “’Ow romantic.”

“Aren’t you the one always complaining about British cuisine?”

Fleur scoffed haughtily. “Cuisine? I don’t zink ze dirty slop of fat you put inside your mine can be accurately called ‘cuisine’.”

“Hush now,” said Harry, going over to her and placing the blindfold over her eyes. “If you don’t stop fussing then I will change the breakfast menu from French to British.”

“I’ll be good,” whimpered Fleur.

With his girlfriend now blinded, he quickly grabbed a foot and tugged, making her squeal but also positioning her spread-eagle across the bed. Before she did anything else, Harry grabbed his wand and pointed it at the bed.

“ _Incarcerous,”_ chanted Harry, watching as four long strands of rope shot out of the wand and followed his command.

Around the bed, there were four posts that could be used to drape curtains along the canopy. Each of the rope went to a corresponding wooden post and quickly and efficiently started to bind themselves to them. As soon as they were secured, the thick threads each went for a cuff.

“Ah!” Fleur started to lightly struggle against the ropes as they started to bind themselves to the D-rings attached to the leather cuffs.  Once they had looped around the metal links, they went back to their corresponding posts in order to make a secure knot, leaving the bound Veela unable to move her limbs from their spread positions.

“Now Fleur… remember that we have an audience,” Harry chided before turning around and giving a small wink to Luna, who was looking at the scene wordlessly, but with visible excitement in those silver eyes.

“What are you going to do wiz your poor, helpless slave today, _Maître_?”

Harry chuckled but didn’t answer. Instead he went over to the water-filled pitcher and poured some in his hands before pointing his wand at it and wordlessly sending the accumulated water in the air and taking a cube shaped form. A freezing spell caused it to solidify into a clear piece of ice. Devilishly, he then showed the result to the sitting form of Luna, who was barely holding back a giggle.

The Gryffindor slowly walked over to the bed. He put the ice cube down for just a second when he reached Fleur’s left foot and knelt down.

Slowly, he started to massage it, hearing Fleur moan in appreciation.

“Mmm… zat’s right, _mon chéri…_ eet feels really good.” She visibly relaxed in her bonds, only curling her red painted toes slowly from time to time, but otherwise started to leave her defenses down.

Which is exactly what Harry wanted when he pressed the cube of ice directly to the sole of her foot.

“ _Eeek!”_ Fleur, instinctively trying to remove her foot from the unpleasant sensation, only for the rope to lose the little slack it had left and prevent it from being pulled any further. “Eet’s cold!”

Harry chortled before he started to move the ice upwards, towards her red painted toes. Fleur mouth was letting out a mixture between gasps and mewls, along with some involuntary giggles from the stimulation as her naturally warm body came into contact with the frozen cube. As it was dragged to her ankle, a trail of cold wetness was left to mark its path.

“Now Fleur… you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Harry asked, never ceasing to slowly drag the ice through her leg, inching ever closer towards her thigh.

“ _Oui_ … I am your good girl – or your bad girl! Whatever fits ze situati – _ahhh…_ ”

“Good,” Harry semi-whispered. “Cause you’re gonna tell me everything that you did with poor Luna while I was gone… you were a good girl, weren’t you?”

 _“Oui, Maître –_ I was a good to Luna.” Harry quickly placed the cube on top of the latex covering Fleur’s womanhood. “ _Merde!_ Alright… maybe I was not _zat_ good.”

“Such language from my good girl… maybe I should put a big gag on your mouth. Merlin knows I bought enough.” He removed the ice and started to drag it slowly towards her stomach. Fleur was visibly shaking. Whether from the cold or excitement, he did not know.

Maybe it was a little of both.

“Now, beautiful. You’re gonna tell me – in detail – what you did to Luna while she was under your care.”

Fleur licked her lips nervously before she started to speak.

“I was writing a letter for Gabi when – oh, _Maitre…_ she looked so sexy just… laying zere all perfectly bound up and wiz ‘er mouth open. You would ‘ave done ze same, _non_?”

“You used her helpless, little mouth, beautiful?”

“I couldn’t ‘elp eet!”

Harry slowly dragged his index finger through the wet trail the cold water had left behind, passing lightly across Fleur’s rubber confined lovebox, and eventually reaching the shiny blue bra. Softly, his hand started to fondle the latex covered orb.

“I know my gorgeous French flower can’t control herself.” Fleur gave a needy whimper. “That’s why I’m here, aren’t I?” Harry said while tenderly poking the French witch’s nipple through the shiny, blue rubber.

“ _Oui_ , _mon chéri,”_ the Veela gasped.

“What did you make her do?” Harry asked again.

“I… started to please myself… while I was dragging my feet all over ‘er body,” Fleur stated, before her face turned an even healthier shade of red. “Zen she… licked zem.”

Confused, he turned around to see Luna making a satisfied smile.

“I thought it smelled nice. They were smooth and tasty,” she said simply. “It was fun!”

If it had been anyone else, Harry would have been a little flabbergasted. As it stood, it was a perfectly normal answer from the odd blonde.

Harry laughed as he dragged his fingernail across the sole of Fleur’s foot, eliciting giggles from the witch.

“I didn’t know you were into that, beautiful,” he teased.

Fleur briefly stammered nervously before she could manage to get something coherent out. “Eet felt nice.”

“Really,” Harry said as he started teasing her toes. “Maybe you should return the favor to our guest, then.” He turned back. “What do you say, Luna?”

The Ravenclaw giggled as she started to wiggle her silver painted toes. “We can do it another day, Master.”

“Alright then… what else did you do to poor Luna?” Harry asked, returning his attention to her confined breasts.

“Mmm…” Fleur moaned. “I… came,” she admitted. “Luna… I let Luna clean me out.”

The Gryffindor slid his hand inside the latex bra and felt Fleur’s nipple – already hard from the combination of cold and arousal – and pinched it softly. The Veela moaned and whimpered, biting her own lower lip.

“Such a naughty girl,” Harry whispered, not letting go of the hard nub. “Taking advantage of a pure and helpless girl like Luna.”

“I’m not pure!” chirped Luna from behind. “I really liked it! It was warm and soft and it tasted very good!”

Harry let out a muffled laugh. “Looks like I got my hands full with _two_ very naughty witches. What should I do with the both of you?”

“Give us the cure!” Luna almost begged.

“Cure?” asked Fleur in a nervous tone.

“We were very naughty… quite wicked and villainous! We need to be given the cure for the bitch-flu!” said Luna excitedly.

“I don’t think we can blame this on you, Luna. You didn’t have a choice.” Harry turned towards his blindfolded girlfriend. “Beautiful, on the other hand…”

“Awww…” Luna complained. “I want my bum to look nice and red too! The other girls always say that I should work on getting better skin complexion.”

“Your skin is nice and pretty, Luna,” Harry assured before he grabbed the box of chocolates Sirius had been generous to procure for him.

He tore the envelope slowly, trying to drag out the moment as long as he could. Bound on the bed, he saw Fleur was twitching slightly with anticipation as to what she would be getting. Out of the corner of his eye, he also managed to spot Luna’s discarded underwear, which he proceeded to pick up as well.

“Open your mouth, beautiful.”

Fleur slowly did so with some hesitation. Harry left her like that for a full minute, trying to see if she’d do anything against his orders. She did not.

The raven-haired dominant grabbed the first piece – milk chocolate just to be safe – and slowly presented it to his expectant girlfriend.

Fleur closed her mouth, and moaned immediately as she did so. She took her time savoring the treat, struggling in her bonds as if trying to tantalize Harry to do more.

He did just that when he suddenly grasped her latex covered quim, eliciting a sharp and excited gasp of air.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” he said, while using his thumb to rub the place where the sensitive bundle of nerves lay trapped beneath the latex. The twitches Fleur was making seemed involuntary at this point, much like it had been during their bath together.

Fleur started to rub her pelvis towards his hand, trying to get more and more stimulation than he was giving her. He knew she desperately wanted to cum by now, but she couldn’t do it out of her own free will. He was the one only one that was able to stimulate her needy slit. He controlled when and how much pleasure she got, and when she was able to cum.

Harry owned her orgasm.

He demonstrated that when he removed his hand.

“P-please… ‘Arry...” Fleur begged.

“Please what, beautiful?”

“M-more… p-please give me more!”

Harry chuckled. “I don’t think so beautiful. You already had two today – without my permission to top it off.”

“I didn’t know I ‘ad to ask for permission.”

“You do now,” Harry whispered, his hand now focusing on her breasts.

Fleur mewled, tugging at her bonds helplessly, trying to get as much pleasure as she could. “Please… I need more, _Maître!_ I… I’ll go crazy!”

“Shhh…” Harry took another piece of chocolate – a bitter dark one – and offered it to her mouth. She took it happily, but still continued to moan, desperate for some more attention.

“It’s only morning, love,” Harry said as he caressed her long, silver hair. “Tell you what – if you behave and continue to be a good girl, I’ll reward you tonight. Is that alright, baby?”

“Al-alright, _Maître_.” Her voice was shaky and filled with pure, unadulterated desire.

“Good girl,” he said before bending down and kissing her. “Open your mouth again, beautiful.”

The witch did so immediately, more than likely expecting another chocolate. She let out a surprised and muffled yell when he shoved Luna’s underwear and pressed his hand on her soft lips.

“Don’t spit it out,” he ordered, rapidly unknotting his tie and promptly using it as a makeshift gag to hold the Ravenclaws underwear inside.

“Mmph!” exclaimed Fleur, followed by a rapid flurry of French that he wouldn’t have understood even if he knew the language.

He raised his wand over to ropes and vanished them. “Don’t touch yourself, beautiful. You’ll be tied and helpless again in just a moment.”

Sure enough, he summoned two of the padlocks that had been used on Luna’s restraints earlier and secured both of her ankles first, followed by doing the same with the cuffs on her wrists once he managed to maneuver them behind her back.

“Come beautiful… we still have to give Luna her show,” he said while winking over to said younger witch. She had been silent up until that moment, but the rubbing of her legs showed that she was getting very excited as well.

Harry helped Fleur stand up on her restrained ankles and watched as she hopped over to where he was guiding her. Their destination happened to be an armless chair that was in front of Luna. Once he sat down, he instantly pulled Fleur on his lap face down until she was bent – a position that he’d used once in the past to administer her first spanking.

Fleur noticed her position immediately and moaned. She knew what was coming.

“What do you think, Luna?” he asked the quite blonde. “Should we teach this bad girl some manners?”

“Oh absolutely!” chirped Luna while bouncing on her seat excitedly.

Harry summoned the fruity scented bottle he had used previously and then turned his wand towards Luna, vanishing her bonds.

“Why don’t you help me?” he suggested while motioning to Luna towards them.

Luna almost skipped over to his side and quickly asked, “What do want me to do, Sir? Or Master? What do you prefer?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” he said nonchalantly. “As for what I want you to do.” He handed the bottle over to her small hands. “How about you help me by giving Fleur her bad girl lotion.”

The Veela on his lap huffed at the name and struggled a little futilely. A short swat across her left cheek stopped it and she slumped back down in surrender.

Luna uncapped the bottle and placed some of it on her palm. The strawberry aroma hit his nose immediately, Fleur too if her relaxed state was any indication.

“All over her bum, Luna. Make sure you don’t miss a spot.”

Luna took her time alright, laughing as she made sure to spread the clear liquid all over her bountiful derriere. He, on the other hand, was caressing Fleur’s back reassuringly, periodically passing his fingers through the shiny lingerie.

“Done!” Luna trilled, still curiously touching Fleur’s latex panties. “As shiny as a Twinkling Tetramite!”

“What’s a Twinkling Tetramite?”

“They’re little bugs that live underground and lead lost children back home,” Luna stated matter-of-factly. “Unless you’re a grown wizard, then they’ll just eat you.”

“Right.” He pointed over to the ground in front of them. “I want you to kneel now, Luna. Enjoy the show.”

Luna did just that and once she was in place, made her biggest smile yet as she beheld the spectacle.”

Despite the show, the spanking was very light. Last time he wanted to drive a point in with Fleur, to make her reveal all her desires and to not take shame in any of them. To be completely honest with him and with herself.

This time, he wanted Fleur to _enjoy_ it. He’d heard of women who took particular pleasure in being spanked, mentally and physically. As such, his administrations were less harsh, and he did not make Fleur count them.

“Mhmm…” Fleur moaned as the first swat, and her body went rigid, as if expecting the next one to be harsher. It was not. After the fifth time his palm met her bum, she relaxed noticeably, almost slumping bonelessly on his lap.

Even the sounds coming from her seemed to be tinged with pleasure and satisfaction, rather than pain.

She did start to struggle again, however, when his hand travelled downward and rubbed her slit. He did not linger there long. Usually grabbing her waistband and tugging on it, before making the rubber snap back.

Luna went mute once again, simply looking on with a smile that threatened to tear her face apart. Those big, silver eyes never seemed to leave Fleur’s rapidly reddening derriere.

“Do you like it, Luna?” asked Harry.

“I do. Do you mind if I touch her?” responded Luna.

“Of course. Come here…”

Luna crawled over, her position meant that she was still at the height of his lap. Bowing her head, a little, she was face to face with Fleur’s blindfolded, gagged face. Still, the blonde girl went on to touch away, fascinated at touching the Veela’s soft skin, groping her rubber clad breasts, even running her fingers to the fine leather cuffs.

Most curiously, she went over to Fleur’s bound ankles and started to run her nails through the soles of the French witch’s feet.

Almost immediately, Fleur went from being relatively calm to struggling harder than she had done even during her impromptu spanking session. Even the improvised gag did not make her laughs any less musical as she tried to dislodge Luna’s fingers from the unusual torment.

“You never told me that you were ticklish, honey,” Harry teased, doing his best to keep the silver-haired beauty from falling down. “I guess now I have a new punishment for you.”

“Nhhh!” Fleur half yelled, half laughed as she continued to do her best to avoid Luna’s excited fingers.

“That’s enough,” he commanded. Luna did so unquestionably, though not without a cute pout.

“Oh, pooh,” she said, disappointed.

Fleur immediately slumped down once again. Breathing heavily through her nose, but otherwise unchanged.

A couple of swats later – along with the appliance of the medicinal cream – Harry shifted so that Fleur’s reddened bum sat on his lap. The blindfold came off next, and the Veela’s eyes immediately settled on the blonde newcomer. She did not say anything until after he took out her gag and the cotton panties underneath.

“Luna!” she hissed. “I will get back at you one of zese days!”

“Please do!” Luna almost begged.

“Now, now… don’t be mad at Luna, beautiful. She’s just having a little bit of fun. You _do_ owe her.”

“I guess…”

“And speaking of owing her. It’s still Valentine’s Day and Luna still hasn’t had her treat.” Harry took his wand out and aimed at one of the bags he’d retrieved from the kitchen earlier. A brief “ _Accio”_ was all it took for something that Luna immediately recognized to come out.

“Pudding!” she exclaimed giddily, eyes now completely focused on the chocolate flavored treat.

“Oh, dear me,” Harry said dramatically. “It seems I forgot to ask the elves for a spoon.”

“That _is_ a problem,” Luna said sagely while Fleur rolled her blue eyes.

“Come here Luna – we’re gonna have to… improvise,” he said while dipping his fingers inside the thick chocolate treat.

Luna did as she was told and once again opted to crawl over to him, the twin silver orbs fixated on his fingers. Once she was at his side, Harry offered the chocolate covered digits to her mouth, which she wordlessly opened and started to suckle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Luna.”

While his right hand was occupied with feeding Luna, his left wandered across Fleur’s body, especially her still hungry womanhood, an act that was rewarded with needy mewls and protesting struggles. He’d stimulate her enough to cause arousal, but without any orgasms.

Once his digits were cleaned completely, he dug once again into the pudding but instead of offering them to Luna, his left hand pulled Fleur’s latex bra to the top, revealing her C-cup breasts, along with hard pale nipples.

Harry grinned before slathering the pudding all over Fleur’s naked tits, paying special attention to the hard nubs. He took more and more of the tasty treat until the Veela’s previously latex clad bosom looked to be covered now by a chocolate brassiere.

“Well then, Luna,” he said to the kneeling Ravenclaw, “time for breakfast.”

Luna almost lunged the moment the order was given, almost assaulting Fleur’s exposed mounds with gusto. She switched between dragging her tongue across the chest, and suckling on a particularly rich area, usually the excited, pale nubs at the center.

Fleur on the other hand was moaning heavily, heavy breaths returning and throwing her head back at times. They were silenced when Harry inserted the leftover pudding into her mouth, which she proceeded to clean out, her tongue dancing around his fingers to get every single bit. Even after it was completely gone, she continued to suck as if on a daze.

The same could be said about Luna, who had by this point completely cleaned Fleur’s breasts, leaving only a trail of wet saliva across the pair of womanly mounds. Still she continued to ceaselessly drag her tongue around, and would likely have done so longer if he had not ordered her to stop.

“Alright, pet,” he said to Luna. “Do you want to feel good?”

“Of course,” responded Luna, who had gone back to kneeling attentively.

“Very well, because I think beautiful here still has to repay you for the pleasure you gave her earlier.” He moved his lap, shaking Fleur from her own lust filled stupor. “Isn’t that right, love?”

“ _Oui… mon Dieu…”_ She continued to go on in a sluggish babble of French but kept on nodding her head.

“Very well. I think Fleur is the one who’s gonna be tasting Dobby’s special pudding now.” Harry grimaced a little. “Merlin – that really didn’t sound right.”

He waited until the horny Veela regained her bearings before he turned his attention back to Luna.

“Hands behind your back,” he ordered as he took out some black rope.

It would probably be easier by this point to use the Binding spell with a flick of his wand, but there was still something wholly enjoyable about the act of taking the rope in his hands and personally tying a girl’s arms until they were completely helpless. Every time he passed the rope around Luna’s wrists was enjoyable, and the art of making a secure rope was exquisite. Even with the advent of magic into their games, sometimes it was best to try his abilities in ropework.

“On the bed,” he commanded, and Luna followed instantly.

With two more coils, he tied the Ravenclaw’s ankles to the post of the bed, almost in the same fashion as he’d done with Fleur, but Luna’s hands were secured behind her back.

Harry snatched the last of the pudding and dipped his fingers into it. As he had done with Fleur, he also began spread it across Luna’s skin.

Harry did not go for the breasts this time. Instead, he started with Luna’s left foot, slathering the underside and the petite toes, trailing up towards her leg, all the way towards her thigh… and ending on her pink pussy lips.

Luna gasped silently as he softly applied the last of the coffee colored treat, taking special care to not mess up her soon to be shaved pubic hair that much.

Once he was done decorating the petite witch, he climbed atop the bad and positions himself behind Luna, making sure to grasp her tightly before calling out to Fleur.

“Beautiful,” he said to the bound Veela who was now looking at Luna like a delicious meal. “Make her feel good.”

Fleur grinned before she knelt down and started to lick the pudding off of Luna’s toes. Slowly using her tongue to scrape off every last centimeter.

Luna started to giggle, twirling her toes either out of reflex or to make the older witch’s task a harder challenge. Given that Fleur did not have the use of her hands, she had to rely only upon the movement of her head.

Harry continued to hold onto Luna as Fleur inched ever closer upwards, the chocolate path disappearing until only the last bit was left.

Everyone in the room was breathing heavily, none so more than Luna as her wide, protuberant eyes locked completely with Fleur’s. To Harry, it seemed as if they had both reached an agreement through sight alone, from one submissive witch to another.

It did not take long for Fleur to attack.

Luna’s first reaction was to squeal, the involuntary sound leaving her mouth as the sensations seemed to overwhelm her. Fleur apparently took notice, because she slowed down considerably, limiting herself to using only her tongue.

There was very little pudding left, but everyone knew that it wasn’t the point.

Harry soon added to the blonde’s stimulation by pinching and tugging her nipples. The increased moaning meant that the sexually inexperienced witch would climax very soon.

Below them, Fleur continued to swirl her tongue around Luna’s folds, teasing her slowly yet getting more daring each and every time until she was teasing the blonde’s sensitive pearl. Finally, she took the hardened bundle of nerves and started to suck on it, driving the Ravenclaw into a frenzy.

With a high-pitched wail, Luna came, her juices flying directly at Fleur, who did her best to catch all of it with her mouth.

As soon as her climax ended, Harry felt Luna crash down into his arms, moaning incoherently about Nargles or something similar, before closing her eyes, absolutely spent.

Wordlessly, Harry unlocked the padlocks that restrained Fleur’s cuffs together. Another spell untiled Luna’s ropes and threw them off the bed.

The Gryffindor felt the now unbound Fleur crawling shakily besides him, and immediately started to caress the passed-out blonde.

“So,” Harry finally said after what felt like an eternity. “What do you think?”

Fleur looked ponderous for only just a moment, before she traced the pale skin of Luna’s neck with her finger.

“I zink,” she said with a loving smile, “zat you need to buy anozzer collar.”

**AN: Late chapter, I know. Suffice to say that aside from my very first case of writer’s block, I’ve also been pretty busy. Hopefully, you’ll have to wait less for the next chapter, which should be more action oriented.**

**Hope the people that are here for the BDSM stuff were satisfied by this one. I had to rewrite some aspects when it came to the various scenes (another reason why this chapter took so goddamn long).**

**To the people who have favorited/followed this story: I will be doing a thorough revision after this in order to fix all the grammar, punctuation, and other writing mistakes that I’ve been ignoring for so long. Be warned if the alert comes over to you and there’s not a new chapter. I’ll do it all at once to make it easier and less annoying for you guys.**

**Please review and favorite and/or follow if you like the story. I always read my reviews and look for some constructive criticism.**

**If you want to get into contact with me more directly, go to my Discord server, link in my profile.**

**Until next time.**

**The Metal Sage.**


	14. Call of the Sea

**“Harry Potter” belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: Chapter 13. Had a busy couple of months.**

**I hope all of you Luna fans liked the last chapter. I hope you like this one even more.**

**Chapter song is “Call of the Sea” by Kamelot. This is before Roy Khan was on vocals, so it may be a little different than some of their later, more famous songs.**

**With that out of the way, enjoy the chapter.**

“Dialogue”

_‘Thoughts’_

_“Foreign Language”_

**A Godfather’s Promise**

**Chapter XIII: Call of the Sea**

* * *

It was already past lunchtime when Harry managed to dress himself properly and leave the room. He took one last glance at the bed before he stepped out of the door and couldn’t help his lips tugging into a small grin as he took in the sight.

Luna was still sleeping – just as soundless as she had been the previous night – her uncovered form was being held closely by Fleur. The Ravenclaw’s head was nestled safely in the valley of the Veela’s breasts, her blonde hair being slowly caressed by the French witch’s fingers.

“Take care of her,” ordered Harry, his green eyes piercing Fleur’s.

Fleur giggled. “You know I will, Maître.”

Harry nodded before closing the door behind him and started to walk upstairs almost automatically. His destination had been the same he’d gone to almost every day since the moment the dark-haired wizard set foot inside the castle – the Gryffindor common room.

There were many students abound, many of the girls were giggling at the prospect of receiving a heart-shaped box that would be undoubtedly filled with chocolates from many of the bored looking wizards. He ignored most of them though, until he saw a familiar witch that was wearing the same blue lined robes that a certain blonde back in his room had been sporting the previous night.

“Cho!” he called out, getting the attention of the Asian girl. She was carrying a box herself. Cedric’s probably.

“Good afternoon, Harry.” Her voice was a little dreamy as she clutched the box close to her heart, reminding Harry of Luna.

“Likewise,” Harry responded dryly before his gaze hardened a bit. “Cho… would you mind if I talked with you for a bit.”

The Ravenclaw gave a weird look for just a moment. “Err… sure Harry,” she said before following to one of the empty hallways. “What is this about?”

Harry sighed. “I need to talk to you… about Luna.”

He did not miss the frown that formed on her features. “Loony Lovegood?”

“Don’t call her that!” Harry almost snapped. “If you mean Luna Lovegood, then yes.”

“What about Loo – Luna?”

The Potter heir looked straight into her eyes. “I want you to stop bothering her.”

Cho half glared at him. “I don’t bother her – “

“I’m not talking about you, Cho,” Harry interrupted. “I’m talking about the other girls in her year… make them stop. I’m certain you have quite a bit of social pull over on Ravenclaw.”

The oriental witch closed her eyes and sighed. “Harry… I know you don’t like it when people get bullied, but you don’t get it! That girl is not… she’s not right in the head!” She gritted her teeth. “She always asks these disturbing questions, and she always goes on and on about some crazy conspiracy, and… and… she sleeps in the n-nude!”

“You let me take care of disciplining Luna. I’m not asking you to teach or raise her,” replied Harry. “I’m asking you to tell them to just ignore her and stop bothering her. I’ll make sure she has all the friends she needs.”

“Harry,” Cho breathed, “I don’t think I can convince them to ignore her…”

“Then you tell them,” he said in a strict voice, “that house Potter has quite some pull outside of this castle… and if they do not stop with this, I’ll make sure that they’ll have just a tad bit of trouble when it comes time to look for work outside.” He let the threat hang for a bit, seeing Cho’s eyes widen.

“A-Alright then.” She nodded and started to walk back towards the main hallway before turning back. “I… I know I shouldn’t pry,” she muttered, “but does Fleur know about this? I thought the two of you were an item.”

Harry smiled. “That’s my business, Cho.” He turned around and started to walk in the opposite direction. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Harry did not know what to expect when he entered the Gryffindor common room after being gone for so long. He half expected the place to have completely changed after not seeing it for nearly a month; the same way the room of a married couple would be transformed after a particularly nasty breakup.

It was almost a shock to him then when he entered and saw that almost every thing had been the same as the last time he’d seen it, as if it was only yesterday that he packed his trunk in favor of the smaller, yet more private room he now shared with Fleur.

“H-Harry?” squeaked a voice from one of the corners. Glancing at the source, he found saw that it had been Ginny. Besides her was Ron, who’s demeanor soured almost immediately.

The rest of the common room also quietened a little, but they awkwardly went about their business once again, trying their best to show that Harry’s arrival had not surprised them. The outcast Gryffindor barely noticed his surroundings however. His eyes searched only for the mass of chestnut hair that belonged to Hermione.

She was sitting down as she always did, with a characteristic book in front of her. She probably had not even noticed his arrival, too busy with studies like the brightest witch she wanted everyone to see her as.

“Hermione,” he said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.

The brunette witch jumped at first – barely muffling a rather cute squeaking noise – before she turned around and immediately embraced Harry once she noticed his presence.

“Harry!” she gasped. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you would come.”

Harry almost winced at the words. “I wouldn’t leave my best friend alone for today,” he said before adding, “I need to make sure my ‘Mione’s admirers are the decent sort.”

Hermione seemed to lighten up. “Oh, you idiot,” she admonished. “I have far too much to worry about than some silly little holiday.”

“I think a lot of people think it’s more than just a silly little holiday.”

“Apparently,” she responded dryly, her gaze pointing towards Parvati and Lavender. The two witches were giddily receiving and giving small cartons that were surely filled with chocolates.

Looking around the common room, Harry spotted many more boxes and wrappers from magic brands like the ever-famous chocolate frogs, to muggle brands that one could find in London shops easily.

“That reminds me,” said Harry before taking out a small box from his robes. “Here you go, Hermione. Now, I know that you’ve told me many times before about how they are terrible for your dental hygiene but –

“I love them,” interrupted Hermione, taking the box with a smile. “I need to make sure Ronald doesn’t go about eating them.”

Harry quickly glanced at the red-head, still sitting down besides Ginny. He made sure not to turn his head, so that Ron did not know they were talking about him.

“He’s still mad, I take it?” asked Harry.

“He’s just being a jealous prat.” Hermione’s eyes then became more serious and whispered, “you brought any for Ginny?”

The black-haired wizard made a face. “I… erm… no.” He glanced back at the couch to see that Ginny was looking at him almost expectantly. “I forgot about her,” he confessed to Hermione. “I only thought of you.”

“You’re sweet,” thanked Hermione. “I just hope she takes it in good faith. She’s been… difficult, since you and Fleur got together.”

Harry sighed. “Honestly, that’s not my problem, Hermione. If she can’t get over her childhood crush then it’s none of my fault. Fleur it my girlfriend now and there’s little that can change that.”

For some reason or another, the brown-eyed witch took in a sharp breath.

“I… I understand.” Her tone was definitely a bit solemn but Harry did not know what to make of it. “I think I should go now… you should too, unless you want Fleur to start worrying.”

“I guess I should.” He gave the witch a quick peck on her cheek. “I’ll come visit you later ‘Mione… hey, where’s Neville?”

Her cheeks were flushed red a little but she still responded. “I-I think he and H-Hannah went over to Hogsmeade for the day.”

“Good for him.”

“Yes,” she muttered silently. “Good for him.”

He did not stop to talk to anyone on his way out, even though he noticed that a few of the students were quickly trying to gather enough courage to say something. It didn’t matter, there was very little for them to say that would interest him.

Going down the stairs, Harry noticed that it was a lot less crowded than when he ascended them. The usual loud conversations were replaced by mostly silence – with the exception of a couple of excited first years, of course – the dark-haired wizard was almost surprised to see a familiar figure going up the stairs.

“Susan?” he asked.

The witch did indeed turn out to be the redheaded Hufflepuff. She gasped a bit once she noticed his presence but quickly stammered out a response.

“H-Harry?!” squeaked the buxom redhead. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t see you.”

The champion merely chuckled a bit. “No need to apologize – in fact… let me see here.” Harry rummaged once again through his pockets until he found what he was looking for: a shrunken box, similar to the one he’d given to Hermione.

He took out his wand and cast a quick enlargement spell; the box quickly returned to its normal form. The green-eyed wizard promptly handed it to a red-faced Susan.

“Hope you like them,” he said before sheepishly adding, “I guess I should have asked if you like chocolate first, but that would have ruined the surprise.”

The grey-eyed witch slowly took the gift from his hands, her face getting almost impossibly redder with each second until she managed to control herself.

“Why would yo-? I mean, thank you!” she almost exclaimed before catching her breath. “I… I don’t know if you should give me these, Harry – I mean… does Fleur know about this?”

Realization dawned on Harry. The Hufflepuff’s reactions were now beginning to make complete sense.

“Those are meant for friendship,” he said quickly. “Back in my muggle school, I always gave chocolate to every-one of my female classmates. I guess it just became a bit of a tradition with me.”

“Oh.” Her eyes looked towards the ground. “Do you consider me your friend, Harry?”

“Of course, I do,” he responded, his emerald eyes meeting her grey orbs. “I always like spending time with you. Don’t you?”

Susan’s face became red again. “Yes! Yes, I do! Thanks for the gift, Harry!” she exclaimed while hugging the box close to her left breast. “S-sorry… I’m in a bit of a hurry! I…I’m late for class!”

Harry nodded and let her pass. The redhead quickly ran towards one of the corridors in the sixth floor. She was still holding the box almost crushingly tight against her chest as she hurried towards the classrooms.

The dark-haired wizard looked on until she disappeared, letting out a sigh once Susan turned around one of the corners. He thought nothing of it until he reached the door to his room.

Odd. He was pretty sure there were no classes today.

* * *

Susan was sure that her heart would burst at any moment; it was certainly pounding hard enough that even Seamus Finnigan would notice. It was making her feel so lightheaded that she nearly forgot why she’d walked all over to the sixth floor.

 _‘The one at the end of the corridor. The one at the end of the corridor,’_ she repeated in her mind, trying her best to take her mind off Harry.

Quite a hard thing to do when she was holding his gift so closely.

The Hufflepuff calmed herself a little by the time she reached the end of the corridor. There was a wooden door in front of her – a bit aged compared to the rest but still sturdy. She took out her wand and unlocked it and quickly looked behind her in case there were any onlookers before entering.

“You sure took your time,” came a voice from inside the abandoned room.

The redhead slowly turned around to see the elegant sight of Daphne Greengrass sitting on an expensive looking divan – a stark contrast to the drab classroom.

“Sorry,” Susan said sheepishly. “I had to deal with a dozen wizards who were asking me out to Hogsmeade. The amount chocolate I got could last me for years.”

Daphne’s face contorted into a familiar image of contempt. “Yes, quite insufferable. Very few in my house bothered because of their contempt for Muggles, but even I got some from them.” She scoffed. “As if I’d even consider accepting.”

Susan giggled. “You’re too harsh. I just told them that I’m not looking for a partner at the moment.”

The violet-eyed girl let out a sigh. “Then they’ll just ask you again next year, if not sooner. Better to say it once and for all – it’s better for everyone involved.”

The redhead walked over to Daphne slowly, almost timidly. “I suppose you’re right. You always are.”

“Of course, I am,” responded Daphne. “I’ve been having to deal with marriage proposals since the day I arrived here. They were not convinced themselves, naturally. I believe most of them were following orders from their parents.” She smirked almost cruelly. “Not an inch of spine among any of them… and they haven’t changed throughout the years, as much as they love to talk and talk about their supposed ‘ancient families’.”

“I don’t really pay much attention to how old the families are,” said Susan as she timidly sat down on the opposite end of the divan.

“Don’t be so modest,” chided the Slytherin witch. “Bones is one of the oldest ones; along with Greengrass, Longbottom, Abbott, Black –“

“Potter?” interrupted the redhead, unconsciously clutching the box closer.

“Yes… Potter. They’re not from these islands – not originally at least – they’ve always been different from us. My father does seem to talk a lot about their wealth, however.”

“Years of service to the crown will grant you that,” chirped Susan.

“You’ve done your homework,” noted Daphne, “and here I thought you didn’t care much about the old families.”

“I…” Susan trailed off, feeling that warm sensation spread to her cheeks once again.

“You only cared about Potter, didn’t you?” guessed Daphne, smugness now evident in those aristocratic features.

Susan did not respond, but she was sure that her heated face said it all. “D-Don’t look at me like you didn’t look into it too.”

“Of course, but my parents made sure that learning about the families was one of my earliest lessons.” Daphne smirked. “Don’t try to make excuses when you’re caught; you’ll only be digging deeper into your own grave.”

The buxom witch puffed her cheeks a bit. “Don’t look at me like that. You said that you like him, too.”

Gazing away from Susan, the Slytherin witch huffed arrogantly.

“I do find him attractive,” admitted Daphne. “But that does not make him any less of an ass. It just means that if I had my pick of the smoldering refuse that is the wizarding population, I’d find him to be the least offensive choice to stick his thing in me.”

She grimaced. “It has to happen at some point, right? I have to give at least one boy for House Greengrass or my family disappears… and I’ll kill myself before I let Nott or _Malfoy_ ,” she spit the name with hatred, “have the satisfaction of procreating with me, let alone one of my sisters.”

Susan shuddered at the idea of having to spend the night… _procreating_ with the pureblood fanatics in Slytherin. It was not even about their looks – although Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe were definitely lacking in that area – even the admittedly attractive ones still carried that aura of malice that repelled her from them before they even had a chance to speak.

“He’s much better than that!” defended Susan.

Daphne sighed, turning her gaze back at the redhead. She now seemed to notice the box that Susan was still gripping close to her.

“I thought you didn’t accept gifts,” said the dark-haired witch, frowning a little before she managed to put two and two together. “It’s from Potter, isn’t it?”

Susan let out a giggle, powerless to help the tug on her lips. “He just gave them to me.”

“Why?” asked Daphne. “Doesn’t he have that French tart to content himself with?”

“Her name is Fleur,” berated Susan. “And he gave me this as a token of friendship. I’m sure he’ll give you some if you meet him today.”

Daphne snorted. “I didn’t ask for presents, I don’t need presents.”

Susan almost giggled when she shot a quick glance at the box of chocolates like a puppy that had been denied a treat.

The redhead set the box atop the table in front of the divan and opened it. She did not recognize the label, nor did the chocolate piece spring to life, meaning that it more than likely came from a Muggle shop. Not that it mattered to Susan; she had learned to appreciate Muggle products the few times her Auntie brought her something.

She picked one of the pieces and immediately gave it a taste, taking her time to savor the expensive treat. The Hufflepuff knew with taste alone that it was of high quality.

“You know, when we planned this little meeting, I did not realize that you were going to come here to stuff your face,” said Daphne.

Smirking, Susan picked a piece of white chocolate and offered it to the aristocratic witch.

“I told you that I don’t want any,” huffed Daphne yet it did not deter Susan from placing the treat right in front of her lips.

Sighing, the Slytherin beauty opened her mouth and accepted the piece of chocolate and ate it quickly. “Yes, yes. It tastes good now how about –“

Her little rant was interrupted when the redhead decided to give her another, different treat.

Warmth spread all around Susan’s body once she felt the Slytherin’s lips meeting her own. She’d had a long time since the Yule Ball to memorize Daphne’s mouth, her scent, and her tongue.

The redhead was always the more playful one. Her kisses were always passionate and eager, wanting to take as much as she could for herself.

Daphne, for her part, was always far more elegant in her affection. Her kiss was far more practiced, as if the movements were a part of a very complex dance or choreography, yet even her emotions would show from time to time.

That’s why Susan knew that beneath that cold exterior, Daphne sought affection as much as she did.

“We’re together, yes?” asked Daphne. The tone of her voice was much more vulnerable than most would imagine from the distant witch.

Susan pulled away from the close contact to see the violet-eyed girl fully.

Daphne Greengrass was so beautiful. Taller than most girls, especially when compared to Susan. Her sharp facial features were perfectly symmetrical. High cheekbones were a nod to her noble lineage, a natural rosy blush complimented them, and her hair was so dark that it almost turned a shade of blue with the right lighting.

The shorter Hufflepuff smiled softly before both their foreheads met, grey eyes meeting the Slytherin’s amethysts.

“I’m with you… for as long as you want me.”

An uncharacteristic glint appeared on Daphne’s face as she grabbed Susan by the back of the head. The buxom witch understood the message immediately and she started to go below, landing kisses all over the pale, slender neck.

Daphne had already done away with her jumper and was unbuttoning her shirt, but Susan was going even lower, down the valley of the Slytherin’s smaller breasts and unto the stomach.

The redhead was acting almost unconsciously as her fingers grasped the hem of the other witch’s skirt and she slowly pulled them down, revealing white and admittedly old-fashioned underwear.

Susan never realized that the Ice-Bitch of Slytherin could be rendered speechless until she started to have these… meetings with her. Normally, Daphne would be the first one to shoot down anyone with a jab that had the uncanny predilection of hitting right at anyone’s self-esteem but at the moment the only thing that seemed capable of coming out of her mouth were muted gasps.

“Sue?” asked the tall girl.

“Y-Yes?” Susan gasped back.

“Can you do m-me a favor?”

“Yes?”

“Call me a dirty girl.”

Susan blinked but quickly shoved it away. Two months of spending intimate time with the stunning Slytherin had made her aware that Daphne had some interesting predilections that almost always ended up in some odd request.

 The redhead grabbed the panties on both sides and pulled them down, revealing her partner’s pink folds.

“You’re a dirty girl,” purred the Hufflepuff before thrusting her tongue at Daphne’s core.

_‘I hope she didn’t forget to cast the silencing charms.’_

* * *

Harry had long prided himself as someone who could resist the cold far better than most of his classmates. Even though he couldn’t compete with the likes of Krum and the Durmstrang students, he still managed.

That said, it was always a nice feeling when he felt the warmth of stepping inside the confines of his cozy bedroom, especially when its other occupant was still inside.

“Welcome back, _Maître_.”

“Hey beautiful.” Harry looked around and noticed something was missing. “Where’s Luna?”

“She ‘ad to leave. She’s not a champion and is not excluded from ze rules like we are, _mon chéri_.” She sauntered over to him and gave a welcoming kiss. “I made sure she was properly dressed before she left. She said she’ll visit when she can.”

Harry chuckled. “You know… I was almost certain that she wouldn’t come back after last night. I… I really went rough on her.”

“Per’aps,” responded Fleur. “But Luna is… a little odd.”

“Little?” teased Harry.

“She’s not crazy,” responded the witch. “She just reasons everyzing ze way you and I do not. Besides,” she smirked, “we are all a little odd, aren’t we?”

“Of course.”

“Just be a little more careful next time, _Maître_ ,” she said a little more seriously.

“I know,” said Harry. “I learn everyday that I have a huge responsibility to take care of you.”

“ _Oui_ ,” acknowledged Fleur. “Zat is why I prefer to submit to you when it comes to ze bedroom, _mon chéri_. Feeling jealous?”

“You kidding?” joked Harry. “I always wanted to be trusted as deeply as you trust in me. Thank you, beautiful.”

“ _Bien_!” exclaimed the silver-haired Veela before going back to the bed. Harry finally noticed that she was wearing the same rubber underwear that he’d gifted her and nothing else. She had also opted to don her collar.

“By the way.” He revealed a few letters that he’d hidden inside his robes. “I picked up your mail too. Thought you’d appreciate not having to go through the Scottish winter for them.”

“You are too good to your lowly slave, _Maître_ ,” teased Fleur before grabbing the letters that had her name on them.

Harry stretched his limbs tiredly before sitting down on the couch, right in front of the small fireplace that kept the room warm enough for Fleur to not complain about the cold weather.

He didn’t have to wait long for said French witch to sit down besides him, laying down at the opposite and placing her legs atop his. It was enough for him to remember that the only one that hadn’t had any sexual gratification that morning was him.

Still, he reigned his instincts in and merely let his hands explore her legs. The dark-haired wizard looked at the small in front of them and noticed that the book Luna had gifted him was still there.

 _‘I’ve been meaning to read this,’_ he thought, grabbing the leather-bound tome. It was best that the next in line to be the Lord of House Potter and House Black knows at least the basics of Magical Society.

The first chapter detailed the history of marriages of old, where Celtic customs still reigned in the Isles. Naturally, House Potter never engaged in these practices, but he kept on reading anyway.

He was halfway through the second chapter when Fleur stirred in surprise.

 _“Zut!”_ exclaimed Fleur as she held on to one of the letters. “Gabby caught ze flu and she says zat she won’t be able to come see us.” She set the parchment down, visibly upset. “Oh, _mon_ _cheri…_ I really wanted you to meet ‘er.”

Harry put his arm around her. “There will be another time,” he assured, “I did not have it in my plans to stop seeing you after the second task.” He lightly grabbed her face. “Or the third… nor after this whole thing is finished.”

Fleur grinned before she pecked at his lips. “I do not intend to leave you, _Maître_. I am afraid zat you are stuck wiz me for quite some time.”

“I can think of far worse predicaments, beautiful.”

Their lips met and Harry forgot about life-threatening tasks and old-fashioned marriage customs. His hands immediately started to explore the Veela’s half-nude body.

The shyness of the previous months had been slowly chipping away. Nowadays he was quite comfortable with letting his hands wander as much as he wanted. The side effect was that the arousal he tried to ignore earlier was coming back with a vengeance.

Fleur was more than happy to be touched, however. That is, if her moans were any indication. She even thrust her chest at him. He quickly passed his hands over the light blue rubber and boldly let his fingers explore underneath the fetish underwear, where her nipples were hard as a nub.

“ _Oui, Maître…_ your French Veela slave is ‘ere for you,” moaned Fleur as she started to slip further and further down. Confused, Harry never broke the kiss until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“Erm… Fleur?” he asked the silver-haired witch. “What are you doing?”

The French witch said nothing but the mischievous look she was giving him was enough to know that she wanted more than a simple kiss.

Fleur’s breath started to quicken as her hands slowly grabbed the zipper on his pants.

“Fleur?” he asked, quite aware of the fact that the crotch area of his pants now looked like it was sporting a tent.

The beautiful Veela hummed, “Poor _Maître_. Me and Luna ‘ad an amazing morning. Our ‘Arry made us feel ze most amazing zings while he ‘ad to ignore ‘is urges. I zink _Maître_ needs to take more advantage of ‘is girls, _non_?”

Harry tried to come up with a reply but could only stare as Fleur started to undo the zipper and nervously dug inside to extract his now fully erect member.

“I told you, beautiful,” he responded, finally regaining his wits. “I want our first time to be special.”

Fleur giggled. “Silly _Maître_. Zere are more ways your Fleur can give you pleasure. I am your slave, _oui?_ ”

The Potter heir felt pretty dumb now. Given his girlfriends posture it was pretty clear what she planning to do. Quickly shoving his nervousness aside, he gave a firm nod.

The blue-eyed witch grinned slowly as she tore her gaze from Harry and concentrated fully on the dark-haired wizard’s tool.  She visibly wet her lips slowly as if she was looking at a savory treat. Gingerly, Fleur slowly opened her mouth and gave his tool an experimental lick.

Harry did his best to compose himself but could still hear himself breathing far more heavily than before. The moment Fleur’s tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock, he took in a sharp breath.

If there was any hesitation on Fleur’s side, it soon melted away. She began by using her tongue far more boldly than before, exploring more and more of his cock with the soft, pink muscle.

It didn’t take long for her to find out that the most sensitive area was the tip, and soon it became the center of her attention.

Eventually, after a few minutes of using her tongue, Fleur’s mouth opened and she engulfed his entire tip with her mouth. Harry was pretty sure that she was inexperienced but he didn’t care for that. At that moment, Harry James Potter was convinced that he was in heaven.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered while he looked at the coals burning in the fireplace. His right hand sought her head and almost unconsciously started to pet her long silver tresses. _‘My beautiful, naughty French girl.’_

Fleur never stopped with her ministrations. Once she got used to having him in her mouth, she started to go deeper and deeper, stopping only when it seemed that she needed to get accustomed to his size before trying again.

“You’re amazing, beautiful,” he gasped almost deliriously. He couldn’t barely believe how good it felt.

The statement seemed to encourage Fleur, as her speed suddenly picked up, and before he knew it, the tip of her nose was touching his pubis.

“Sweet Merlin,” groaned Harry as the kneeling Veela started to use her tongue once again, this time all over the underside of his cock. This, combined with the sensation of Fleur starting to suck like a vacuum was almost enough for him to explode then and there.

Still, he suddenly heard Fleur gurgling a bit before she quickly withdrew in order to take a deep breath of air, leaving his member feeling relatively cold now that it was no longer engulfed by the witch’s warm mouth.

That did not last for long though. As soon as she had regained her breath, Fleur opened her mouth again and inserted his cock back inside, this time going deep. She began to bob her head back and forth, using her tongue much more eagerly than before.

Harry almost didn’t notice that he had now firmly grasped the French Veela’s silver hair and was gently forcing her head to take more and more of him with each push. Finally, the overwhelming pleasure became too much to handle and he quickly let out a warning.

“I’m… I’m going to –“ He could not finish the sentence but Fleur seemed to understand all the same. She stopped her ministrations and withdrew until only the head stayed in her mouth.

The restrained excitement of the previous days was relieved in one single, long moment. He felt his essence burst out of the tip of his cock and directly into Fleur’s mouth.

The silver-haired champion did not budge in the least, taking his entire release without any complaint. When he was sure that it was over, he finally let go of her hair, signaling to the kneeling witch that it was done.

Fleur seemed did not say anything for the next few moments, her mouth still housing his seed, as if debating what to do with it.

It did not take long for her to make a decision. Harry soon saw that she started to slowly swallow, her eyes closed as she breathed calmly.

She opened her sapphire orbs for a few seconds to look at the dark-haired wizard. Harry could immediately see the small smile reach those beautiful blue eyes before she laid her head down on his lap.

The Potter heir immediately picked up the kneeling witch and laid her on the couch. Sitting down beside her and laying her head back on his lap again. He did not say anything, but expressed his thanks by caressing her silver hair.

He spent the next few hours like that, letting his beautiful submissive rest while he forgot all his worries. In the back of his mind, he tried to remember the book that was now at his side; vaguely recalling that he was on the brink of getting to some pretty interesting information but Harry chose to leave it for the moment.

Talks of marriage could wait. After all, it wasn’t like there was some mind-blowing revelation awaiting him.

Certainly not.

He was too young to think of such things.

* * *

Sometimes, Harry Potter believed that mother nature (or whatever deity ruled the weather) made its presence known as if to protest a particular event. In this case, it seemed like that omnipresent presence seemed to protest the existence of the Triwizard Tournament by reserving one of the coldest temperatures in the past two months to the day of the Second Task.

Fleur had been the first to notice, complaining even more than usual about how unbearably cold it was after they met for one last time before going to prepare for the upcoming event.

After Valentine’s Day, Fleur had to return once again to the carriage. As before, Madame Maxime had been more demanding and the fear that one night the Beauxbatons Headmistress might open the door to her prize student’s room and find an empty bed was too much of a risk for the Veela.

Luna had been pretty busy as well, and if Harry was being honest with himself, he was still uncomfortable with the idea of being alone with the blonde Ravenclaw.

Despite Fleur knowing – and being the main instigator – of their relationship, Harry still felt like he would be cheating on his French girlfriend if he spent some time alone with Luna Lovegood. It’s something that he would need to get used to if the three of them were to keep their current relationship.

He really did not wish to hurt Luna in any way.

“You’re prepared, then?” asked Hermione. There was definitely nervousness in her voice. There had always been a hint since their first year but this was the first time that the bright witch could do nothing to stop what was about to come.

“I’m fine, Hermione. You know I always come back,” he responded with a slight bit of arrogance.

Hermione furrowed her brows. “Don’t get cocky Harry. Just because you’re in first place does not mean that –“

“Hermione,” he said a little bit more forcefully this time, “I’m going to be fine. You know that I’m going to be fine.”

The brown-eyed witch looked at the floor and for a moment it seemed like she was going to reply before she was interrupted by a new presence.

“Ms. Granger?” came the voice of Professor McGonagall, who was standing right behind both of them.

Hermione immediately turned around to face the Deputy Headmistress. “Yes, Professor?” she declared respectfully.

“We require your presence now, Ms. Granger for… that thing we discussed earlier. Are you still willing to go forward with your decision?”

The Gryffindor witch nodded quickly, with a little blush tinting her cheeks. “I do… just give me a minute.”

Professor McGonagall nodded and started to walk confidently over to the Hufflepuff table.

Harry looked back at Hermione. “What was that about?”

Hermione’s cheeks reddened just a little bit more before she quickly hugged him tightly. Harry was a little surprised but he returned the embrace, matching the brown-haired girl’s strength with his own.

“If you die out there,” Hermione whispered into his ear, “I’ll kill you.”

Harry let out a chortle. “Well I wouldn’t want that. Better make sure I come back safe and sound.”

“You better,” responded Hermione, her tone almost a mixture between demanding and pleading.

Once the hug ended, Hermione picked up her bag and strode over to where the Professor’s table was set, eventually entering through the same door Harry had gone through the day when he was picked out to be a champion by the goblet.

The green-eyed wizard bit his lip and sat back down to the table to finish the food on his plate. His attention was now focused entirely on Fleur, who was still eating a light breakfast. Oddly enough, her friends were nowhere to be seen, there was only Cho Chang; at her other side, however, was Luna.

Taking one last glance, he stood up and was about to leave the hallway when a rough sounding voice interrupted him.

“Potter!”

Harry turned around to see Viktor Krum marching towards him, along with a pretty, dark-haired woman that was holding hands with the Bulgarian seeker.

“Krum,” he greeted back. “Ready for the task?”

“ _Da_. I vill be beating you today. I hope you liked being number one,” responded the Durmstrang champion before he introduced the witch at his side.

“This is girlfriend, Lena,” declared Krum. “She came by to see me beat you.”

Lena gave a cool smile before greeting Harry. “Pleased to meet you. Viktor has been talking about beating you in Quidditch. I never understood the sport myself,” she said. Unlike Krum, she barely had an accent.

“You and Hermione would get along fine,” said Harry. “She’s Muggleborn, so she’s not that much into Wizarding sports.”

Lena nodded. “Seems your friend and I share something in common – I’m also Muggleborn.”

“You’d really get along well then,” joked the Gryffindor champion.

“Yes,” she mused before taking a glance to her watch. “Sorry, but I have to go.”

Harry nodded; both he and Krum watched Lena quickly walk back to the Great Hall.

“I told you I would only borrow Hermy-own-ninny for one night,” said Krum, his eyes never leaving the sight of his girlfriend.

“Hermione’s not…” he protested. “I have a girlfriend already. You know that.”

Krum gave him an amused look before he muttered something in Bulgarian and walked towards the main entrance. He’d most likely go to prepare.

_‘I must go prepare as well.’_

* * *

The first task was meant to be a surprise. Not that it mattered since almost all of the champions knew what they were going to be facing but the fact of the matter was that the unwritten rule was that none of them were aware of the fact that they’d be going up against dragons.

This upcoming task was different. Not only were they given a tool that would assist them in knowing their next challenge, but Ludo Bagman himself mentioned that the egg held a clue.

In short, proper preparation for the first task was more than likely against the rule. If one champion were to show up ready to face a dragon then it’d go against the rules. For the second task, they were more than likely supposed to show up prepared.

The fact that he’d be expected to swim under the Black Lake in mid-February further cemented that.

Despite the colder than average day, the signs of thawing were visible on the ground. Where it was once covered by white snow, it was now slightly slippery with dark, cold mud. Harry was thankful that he chose to wear boots.

By the time he arrived, both Krum and Cedric were already inside the champions’ tent. He nodded at them before sitting on one of the chairs, awaiting the arrival of Ludo Bagman.

It didn’t take long for Fleur to arrive; cursing what Harry assumed to be either the mud, the cold, or the fact that he’d ordered her not to orgasm until they met once again. Maybe there was another reason, but he was not familiar enough with the French language to know exactly what.

Nevertheless, she seemed to compose herself once inside and sent Harry a quick smile before sitting beside him.

Harry didn’t even have time to talk to Fleur they were called outside, where Ludo Bagman awaited alongside Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Professor Dumbledore.

The seats had been slowly filled throughout the morning and were now almost completely occupied by Hogwarts students, with the darker uniforms of Durmstrang taking one side and the light blue of Beauxbatons taking another.

The crowd cheered loudly once the champions appeared, but the names where sometimes mixed up. Harry could not help but get quite an ego boost once he saw that the black dragon of the Potters was far more prominent than it had been in the previous task. Most of Gryffindor sported it, and even a few Ravenclaws.

Almost all of Hufflepuff still cheered for Cedric of course.

Slytherin cheered for no one.

“Right then!” exclaimed Bagman in his usual excited tone. “I believe that everyone has prepared efficiently?”

All of the champions nodded, Harry included.

“Good-o! Very well then! Take your positions at the edge of the pier and wait for the signal!” ordered Bagman.

Harry and the rest of the champions did as they’ve been instructed. Most of them shed their outer clothing on the way, something that probably explained why their audience had suddenly gone silent for just a moment.

The crowd’s attention – the male half, at least – was fixed entirely on one part of the proceedings: the sight of Fleur Delacour wearing a bathing suit.

The term “bathing suit” may have been a misnomer. It was a swimming garment that covered her entire body with the exception of her feet, hands, and everything above her neck. Made out of neoprene, Fleur had been busy last week in enchanting it with warming charms. Something Harry made sure to emulate.

Judging by their looks, the crowed was definitely disappointed, at least a little. When they’d been told that the second task involved water, they had doubtlessly envisioned the sight of Fleur Delacour wearing a revealing outfit, and were instead greeted with the sight of her covered from ankle to neck in the admittedly tight suit.

Still, he was at least satisfied that it would probably be the closest thing his classmates would see to a revealed Fleur – a sight that he was now enjoying in private almost daily.

_‘Enjoy it while you can. She’s mine… not yours… never yours.’_

Harry took off his own clothes until he was only in a similar neoprene swimsuit. Unlike Fleur’s, which was a combination of dark and light blue, his was black and red.

Looking at his side, Harry saw that Krum and Cedric were not as well equipped as he and Fleur. That did not mean that they came unprepared, however. He was pretty sure that the Hufflepuff champion and the Bulgarian seeker had something up their sleeve to prevent some life-threatening hypothermia.

The Gryffindor champion only had a few seconds to look at his competition before Ludo Bagman raised his Sonorus enhanced voice.

“Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… _three!_

Upon hearing the shrill sound of Bagman’s whistle, Harry immediately plunged into the Black Lake. The water was indeed cold, as would be expected from the Scottish Highlands near the end of February.

Still, Fleur’s charms worked like… well like a charm, and his body kept relatively warm.

Keeping his body warm was one thing, but he still needed to find a way to breathe underwater. Luckily for him, he managed to spend the last few days taking Ancient Runes teachings quite seriously.

Especially when you always could break into the forbidden section and check out some of the more advanced books.

Harry dug his fingers inside a little utility belt that came along with the suit. Along with fishing out his wand he took out a small, brass tube.

It was an odd little thing that one might bring to a life or death situation, yet Harry knew that it was perfect for his purposes. On the side of the cylindrical metal object was a small hole, big enough to for the tip of thumb to enter with some difficulty.

Quickly, the Potter heir bit into the brass tube, with the orifice firmly inside his mouth and took a deep breath of clean air.

If one were to take a closer look at the insignificant tube, they would find out that it had been inscribed with air runes. Even with all his efforts, Harry had only managed to fit in thirty minutes worth of oxygen into the small tube.

He made sure to pack three, just in case.

With the respiratory situation finally solved, he pointed his wand in front of him and quickly thought of the words for the other secret he’d hidden under his sleeve.

 _‘ **Echolos!** ’_ he chanted internally, and his senses were suddenly assaulted with odd noises all around him.

The purpose of the spell had been quite simple: echolocation.

Sirius had mentioned how a Muggleborn acquaintance of his was deeply entranced by dolphins and their uncanny ability to detect things underwater. So much so that she had managed to create a spell that did it’s best to mimic the way those underwater creatures used their senses to see.

Once Harry had gotten used to the slight sensory overload, he started to detect the most important things. In front of him were three figures, one of which was trailing slower than others, as if unwilling to leave something behind.

_‘Fleur.’_

Steeling himself, the youngest champion used all of his strength to propel himself towards the presence. Every few seconds he’d cast the spell again to see if he could detect any more details that would help him complete the task.

It wasn’t long until he manages to detect a new presence.

A lot of presences, in fact.

All of them headed straight for Fleur.

If he’d left some energy in reserve, it was certainly being used now. Harry strained the muscles of his arms and legs until he finally reached the French Veela.

Once he did manage to get around the overgrown reeds his eyes were greeted by the image of Fleur being assaulted from all sides by grindylows – tiny horned water demos known for their mischievous cruelty.

Fleur herself was fighting as best she could, trying to prevent the grindylows from tearing at her Bubblehead Charm. Even with the speed she was throwing spells, however; they were too many to handle.

Angered, Harry immediately took out his own wand and cast a cutting charm towards one of the loathsome water creatures, killing it instantly.

Fleur immediately looked back at the source of the spell and their eyes met for a brief, blurry second before the both of them started to cast almost all of their repertoire of offensive spells at the horned pests.

By the end, Harry did not know just how many minutes had passed. It was all just so fast that the ability to detect the passage of time was gone. The grindylows seemed to have had enough after seeing many of their own either injured or killed and decided to finally leave and pester something else.

Turning around, Harry finally took his time to watch Fleur, who was breathing deeply after the ordeal. Briefly, he remembered the day when she was attacked… she looked just as defiant now as she did back then.

Slowly, she turned around to face him… and after seemingly floating towards Harry, she finally let go of her defensive posture and embraced him.

 _‘She never surrenders to any challenge,’_ Harry thought to himself. _‘Only to me.’_

The dark-haired wizard momentarily forgot what was happening around him. All that mattered was the fact that Fleur was alive and well, no longer in danger from whatever man or beast wanted to harm his lovely French witch.

After spending a few seconds finding comfort in one another, he gently started to let go. Fortunately, Fleur seemed to understand the need to continue on with the task.

Raising his wand, he cast the echolocation charm once again and paid close attention to whatever he could perceive around him.

The grindylows seemed to be disappearing in the distance, the beats of their hearts were quite easy to detect. Sensing further, he finally found what he was looking for.

One of the presences was far more aggressive than the other, and was quickly and short-temperedly looking around almost all around. The other was far calmer, and swiftly approaching towards a place where more activity was clearly evident.

_‘Krum, without a doubt. The other one must be Cedric.’_

Gazing back at Fleur, he nodded towards the direction where he sensed the older Hogwarts champion and they both started to advance together, making sure to not separate this time around.

Harry did not care if he lost this task anymore as long; as long as Fleur was safe, he didn’t care if he came dead last.

Just before he managed to reach the place where the number of presences peaked, Harry noticed that it was getting harder to draw oxygen from the tube. Thinking fast, he took it out of his mouth and fished inside his utility belt in order to find another of the cylindrical brass objects and took a deep breath before continuing towards the destination.

He was about to reach through the overgrown algae when he heard a what sounded almost whispers. Upon further inspection, it was a haunting mersong.

_“An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took…_

_… your time’s half gone, so tarry not_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot…”_

Immediately after the vaguely threatening verse ended, both Harry and Fleur were treated to the sight of dozens of merpeople that seemed to in and out of their caves to leer at the couple. At his side, the wizard felt his girlfriend grab his hand tightly while they both swam further inside the colony.

The underwater onlookers seemed to increase in number as they swam towards the center of the subterranean city, until there were so many that any place one was to look at would be filled with the gray-skinned creatures.

Eventually, Harry noticed that the haunting song was being chanted by a choir of merpeople that were situated around a giant statue of a merman. Attached to its tail, were four figures that were instantly recognizable.

At the far left was a figure that he recognized as Lena – Viktor Krum’s girlfriend. At her right was Cho Chang, more than likely Cedric was meant to retrieve her.

Despite the cold water, Harry could feel himself burning up in anger once he saw the final two figures that were bound to the stone tail.

Short, crimson hair was the first thing he noticed, along with a pretty heart-shaped face. Susan Bones looked awfully pale, a far cry from her usually red-tinted cheeks.

She looked like she was dead; the little air bubbles leaving her mouth were the only evidence of life.

Harry felt Fleur’s hand tighten around his, at first it seemed like a plea so that he didn’t take out his wand and immediately throw a curse towards the merpeople but upon looking at her face, he saw that the French Veela was also looking in anger at the sight.

Once he fully noticed the final figure, he was pretty sure that if Fleur were not there to calm him down, he would have gone to Azkaban for murdering an entire merfolk colony.

Hermione looked almost peaceful, like she was sleeping, but deep-down Harry could not shake the image of the dark days when his brown-haired friend was petrified by the basilisk in their second year.

Deep down, he did take comfort at the fact that Hermione looked a bit more serene than the horrified expression she had when she’d almost been murdered by Salazar Slytherin’s legacy.

After a few seconds of staring, Harry saw Fleur swimming swiftly towards the bound hostages. He soon followed her, his eyes almost never leaving Hermione’s form.

Looking closer, the bright witch looked almost peaceful as she lay tied to the rock. Deep down, Harry knew that very few people would have believed that the usually strict and uptight Hermione Granger could look so calm and peaceful. Even less could imagine that she’d been bound with what looked like green rope made out of strong underwater flora.

 _‘I think I’m the only one who has ever seen her like this. She looks so…’_ His mind couldn’t come up with an appropriate word. Perhaps there was no word to describe the way Hermione was at the moment.

Ignoring any more thoughts, Harry’s attention turned towards Fleur and Susan. The silver-haired witch was clearly concerned about the Hufflepuff, bound just like Hermione was with the green, rope-like restraints. As if in unison, both champions aimed their wands at the ropes – making sure that the hostages themselves were outside the line of fire – and shot a weak severing charm in order to cut them.

It took several tries with the charm until both Hermione and Susan were free, and once they were, Harry and Fleur both took hold of them and prepared to rise to the surface.

The dark-haired wizard hesitated at the last moment, realizing that if both of them left now, they’d be leaving both Lena and Cho behind.

Despite knowing that both Cedric and Krum were capable enough to of arriving soon – a quick casting of the echolocation charm was enough to confirm that – Harry did not have inside him to leave the remaining two hostages behind with the merpeople.

_‘Lest what you seek stays here to rot…’_

He noticed Fleur pointing upwards, turned his gaze towards the bound figures and shook his head.

The Veela looked conflicted for just a moment, looking at Susan for a few seconds as if to check if there was anything wrong aside before sighing closing her eyes and nodding.

Harry looked back appreciatively at Fleur, knowing that she wanted nothing more than to leave the cold lake as quickly as possible not only to win the match, but also to escape the cold.

Suddenly, there was a small disturbance happening behind them. Harry turned around to see some of the mermen holding spears against him and Fleur.

“ _Leave_!” one of them hissed. “You take your hostage and _leave_!”

The Potter heir shook his head and pointed at the two remaining hostages.

“They are not for you to take, earth dweller!” snarled another merman who had joined the first two. “You _will_ leave!”

Harry shook his head slowly, staying as put as he could and keeping a tight grip on Hermione.

More and more mermen were slowly surrounding the pair of champions, holding their weapons tightly, looking like they were just waiting for an excuse to use them against the outsiders.

From the corner of his eye, he peered at Fleur and saw that she too was holding steady, keeping a strong hold of Susan while her other hand clutched the elegant wand. Harry knew that she was at a disadvantage underwater but that did not seem to deter the French witch even slightly.

Just as the situation was reaching its fever pitch, Cedric approached through the same way that Harry and Fleur had come through.

The Hufflepuff champion did not even afford a glance at either Harry or Fleur; he was too concentrated on Cho. Once he arrived, he took out a knife, cut away at the ropes with a delicate swiftness, and pulled her upward out of sight.

Once the distraction was gone, the previous tension between earth and water dwellers slowly began to resume. It would have continued if some of the younger ones didn’t start to panic slightly once a new figure came into view.

It was an oddly monstrous sight at first – like it came from the pages of a really bad Silver Age comic book: a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark… and with the temper to match the latter as well once it saw the last hostage.

 _‘Krum,’_ realized Harry. ‘ _Guess he’s also none too pleased to his girlfriend strapped to an underground rock in the middle of the lake.’_

The partially transfigured Bulgarian dashed at Lena and tried to free her from the ropes with his new, razor-sharp teeth unsuccessfully.

_‘He’s going to rip her in half if he doesn’t stop!’_

Suddenly, Fleur raised her wand and pointed it at the ropes. She cast one last severing charm, freeing the dark-haired witch from the rock.

Just like Cedric as before him, Krum quickly snatched Lena and raced towards the surface, leaving the last two champions alone without a second glance.

Now that the everyone was gone, Harry took one last glance at the underwater colony. _‘Time to leave.’_ His gaze turned towards Fleur and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Despite the situation, she looked like she was giggling.

 _‘I must teach her to not diss the classics,’_ Harry mentally grumbled.

Swimming was a little more difficult while having to hold on to Hermione but his training had made sure that carrying the additional weight didn’t give him much trouble.

 _“Never tell her that,”_ Harry could imagine Sirius saying. _“If there is one universal touchy subject with women from all walks of life, it’s weight.”_

The light started to get brighter and brighter. Before he knew it, the surface seemed to be just twenty meters away… fifteen… ten. The water got slightly warmer as well, yet even then it was extremely cold.

As soon as Harry broke through the last wall of water, he almost spit out the tube in order to breathe in fresh, cold air. Less than a second later, Fleur emerged as well, sputtering out any droplets that clung to her face.

Whatever spell had been set on Hermione and Susan dispelled as soon as they came into contact with oxygen.

Harry felt Hermione gasp desperately, clinging onto him tightly. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem to notice the cold water. Perhaps the work of an extremely powerful heating charm?

Susan was also clinging onto Fleur, her previously pale face now returned to its usual healthy tone. In fact, as she was taking comfort in the arms of the French Veela, the red-haired Hufflepuff was even redder than usual.

“You’re alive!” Hermione interrupted, apparently forgetting their predicament and hugging him just as tightly as she did during breakfast.

“I was afraid that you’d kill me,” joked Harry, “and I wouldn’t let you rot down there. I’m pretty sure your parents would kill me.”

“Oh, Harry,” said Hermione. “You didn’t really believe that song, did you? You really think Dumbledore would let us drown? The threat was only meant to urge to complete the task as swiftly as possible.”

“This is a school that has thrown mountain trolls, dementors, dragons, and basilisks at us,” deadpanned Harry. “I think a healthy dose of paranoia is more than warranted.”

Hermione grumbled. “Point taken.”

“As much as I would love to ‘ear about your adventures,” interjected Fleur, still holding onto an embarrassed Susan, “I believe zat we ‘ave a task to complete, _mon chéri_.”

“Right,” Harry responded sheepishly.

“Ah!” gasped Susan, as if suddenly snapping out of a dream. “Thank you, Fleur… Harry.”

“Eet was nozzing. I couldn’t let a pretty girl down zere all alone. Belisama knows zat beauty and grace are rare enough in zis forsaken island,” said Fleur while swimming towards the shore, unaware of the way her words made Susan turn an even deeper red.

Hermione looked like she wanted to respond but a small nudge from Harry prevented that. Sighing, she too began to swim towards the shore, where the crowd was waiting… along with some twenty or so merfolk.

Once they reached land, they were beset by the familiar sight of a fussy Madam Pomfrey.

“Come here – all of you,” she commanded before wrapping them in tight blankets and giving them a hot potion.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, none of them seemed to want to speak either out of exhaustion or embarrassment until – to Harry’s utter amazement – it was Susan who broke the silence.

“Erm… I’m sorry F-Fleur,” stuttered the redhead. “They told me your sister got sick and… well.” She looked like she was trying to find the right words to say, but her blush just kept on intensifying with every second.

“They didn’t have anyone to be your hostage – except for Harry – but he was going to be competing as well… since you danced with me at the ball…”

“ _Non_. Don’t be ashamed,” responded Fleur. “I am zankful zat you decided to go participate. At least I know you. Alzough… I am surprised zat zey didn’t ask my friends.”

“There was no time. I was a last-minute replacement,” muttered Susan. “They only found out about your sister yesterday night… and your friends were nowhere to be found this morning.”

“Ahh… zey ‘ave been sneaking in ze morning to zat leetle town. Zey say ze food is better zere.” Fleur looked at Harry. “By ze way, _mon chéri_. You still ‘ave not taken me zere for a date.”

“I’ll take you there soon. It’s a promise,” said Harry.

“Yes… well… that’s why I was there,” finished Susan.

“I was lucky. You are easier to carry around zan Monique, Amelie or Clemence.”

Harry couldn’t help grin a bit at seeing Susan sputter a bit before looking at the ground.

He looked at his side to meet Hermione’s eyes. She tore her gaze away almost immediately, as if she were surveying the area behind him.

“I guess I should thank you as well,” said Harry. “I… well… if it really was voluntary, I’d never imagine you’d accept to go down there.”

“They were going to ask Ron after me,” informed Hermione. “If that prat qualifies then so do I.”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Thanks for that,” he said before swatting above her hair. Hermione sent him an odd look. “Water beetle,” he responded.

For some odd reason, both of them started to giggle… then it turned to chuckles so infectious that Fleur couldn’t help but add her own musical laughter to the mix. Even Susan surrendered to the atmosphere by smiling.

“Harry? Ms. Delacour?” interrupted Bagman, who chose that moment to appear before the participants. “They will be giving the score in a few minutes! Please come along!”

Harry nodded and stood up. “I’ll see you when this is done,” he said to Hermione before leaving with Fleur.

“You ‘ave great friends,” commented Fleur.

“I do,” responded Harry. “Sorry.”

“For what, _mon chéri_?”

“I… it was dumb,” said Harry. “I should have known that nothing would happen. I dragged us both down.”

Fleur hand grabbed his and they looked at each other’s eyes. “ _Non…_ I will not ‘ave you blaming yourself for zat. Eet was a noble zing to do.”

“But…” protested Harry. “I’ve sunk your chances of winning now. We came in last!”

Fleur let out a dignified giggle “Oh, silly _Maître_ ,” she said. “I joined zis tournament because I wanted to be seen as somezing more zan a pretty face. I know zat I cannot change the opinons of everyone, but I ‘oped zat I would be able to find some meaning in ‘ere.” She looked at him. “I already found somezing else… somezing more zan a silly tournament.”

“Fleur?”

“You mean more to me zan any tournament, _mon amour_. Ze fact zat you chose to stay until everyone was safe makes me glad zat I picked you. Eet means zat I made ze right choice.”

Harry scratched the back of his head. “Well… that’s something I guess.”

“Just promise to reward your Fleur later, _Maître_. I’m so cold zat ze leather sleepsack looks quite warm and comfortable now.”

Harry subtly pinched her bum. “Naughty girl.”

“ _Your_ naughty girl, _Maître_.”

Ludo Bagman’s voice suddenly erupted, silencing all other conversations.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…”

“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.” Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look. “We therefore award him forty-eight points.”

_‘If Cedric came in after the time limit, that most certainly means all of us did as well. Even so, it seems that Diggory has this tournament in the bag now.’_

At his side, Harry noticed Hermione opted to join the announcements rather than stay behind with Madam Pomfrey. She was dragging a still flustered Susan behind her… who herself was accompanied by…

 _“Daphne?!”_ Harry asked.

“Potter,” drawled Daphne. “You live. Now I have to deal with Malfoy being even more insufferable until he assures us all of your impending demise in the third task.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” responded Harry.

“I’ve come to expect that out of Gryffindors,” snarked Daphne.

“Oh, would keep quiet?!” snapped Hermione.

Daphne looked down at the brown-haired witch. “I’m not the one shouting like Knockturn Alley street vendor, Granger.”

“You –“

“Calm down, both of you,” said Harry.

Hermione and Daphne continued to glare at each other but said nothing as Bagman continued to reveal the scores.

“Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.”

The Durmstrang students roared their approval as Krum raised his hand triumphantly. Besides the famous seeker, Lena smiled while grabbing his arm.

“Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour were the last to arrive.” Bagman continued. “Well outside the time limit… however,” he interjected.

“Ms. Delacour must be commended with her masterful use of the Bubble-Head Charm. Mr. Potter on the other hand, employed his advanced knowledge of Ancient Runes to great effect. Such a feat is beyond his current year. He also used a quite odd charm that allowed him to detect life-forms underwater.”

“The Merchieftaness also informs us that Mr. Potter and Ms. Delacour were the first to reach the hostages and the delay was due to their determination to see that all the hostages returned to safety, including Ms. Chang and Ms. Romanova,” announced Bagman.

“That is not all! The Merchieftaness also mentions the fact that both Mr. Potter and Ms. Delacour came across a particularly nasty school of grindylows and with their combined forces, managed to repel them efficiently.”

“Most of the judges,” Bagman gave Karkaroff a disapproving glance, “feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. Their final score is forty-five!”

Harry’s supporters and the Beauxbatons delegation started to cheer loudly at the announcement. The crowd members wearing black and red were roaring unintelligibly but enthusiastically. Fleur’s friends were chanting in French.

“Congratulations!” exclaimed Hermione giving him a third hug for the day. “Tied with Cedric… you’re actually going to win!”

“Yes, yes… win eternal glory,” mocked Daphne. “Eternal glory apparently means your name being marked on a book nobody ever reads and being mentioned by Professor Binns in a class nobody ever pays attention to… oh, there’s that little money prize too! What is it? A thousand galleons? How quaint; just imagine how much knock-off jewelry you can purchase with that.”

“Daphne, please,” pleaded Susan and to Harry’s surprise, the Slytherin witch huffed and stopped talking.

“ _Maitre?”_ whispered Fleur. “Next time you want to punish me, remember zat zere are witches zat deserve eet a lot more zan your lovely Fleur.”

“Duly noted.”

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,” continued Bagman. “The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”

It was over, Harry thought, as they were herded back towards the castle… was only one task left. One last challenge before he could commit himself fully to his personal life.

“I guess you’ll want the shower?” asked Harry.

“I see no reason you can’t join, _mon chéri_ ,” responded Fleur. “I do want a warm bed… and a collar on my neck… and a _Maître_ to sleep wiz… ze orgasm you promised me can wait for tomorrow.”

Harry smirked. “I’m sure I can provide.”

**AN: Late chapter again, hope it was worth it.**

**I decided to come up with a spell called Echolos, which is meant to mimic a dolphin’s ability of echolocation.**

**Belisama is a Gaulish goddess, her name meaning “brightest one”. Gaul is the name given by the Romans to the geographic area that today is mostly compromised by modern day France. I thought that having Fleur invoke Merlin’s name like many others do wouldn’t really fit since Merlin or Myrddin is a native to the British Isles.**

**To any artist out there, you are welcome to do fanart if you’re inspired to do so.**

**If you like the story, please leave a review, I love listening to some feedback. It’s also great if you wanna have a conversation.**

**I have a Discord server where you can get into contact with me more directly. Be aware that it can be a bit NSFW compared to other servers.**

**Link: FEKnu79**

 


	15. Living a Lie

**“Harry Potter” belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**AN: I want to extend my thanks to the great members of my Discord server, who have helped me with the writing of the chapter itself, but also re-igniting my passion for this.**

**Special thanks go to Meneldur, who has not only aided me with the crafting and editing of this chapter, but also the story as a whole.**

**I would also like to inform my readers who are interested in BDSM of another great fic by Rtnwriter. Most know him as the author of “Soul Scars” but he also has another fic in AO3 called “Two Little Words”. It’s exceptional and even better written than this one.**

**Another great writer is Neptune20, who has two BDSM fics: “The Brightest Witch” and “For Every Day After”. Both are Harry/Hermione, the first one is with Harry as the dom, the latter is with Hermione as the dom.**

**With that out of the way, please enjoy the chapter!**

“Dialogue”

_‘Thoughts’_

_“Foreign Language”_

**A Godfather’s Promise**

**Chapter XIV: Living a Lie**

 

The air seemed less cold than before. At least that is what Harry believed. Sure, there was still snow – It was still technically winter – but he definitely felt a sense of warmth that had not been there since the early days of November.

Then again, walking through Hogsmeade hand in hand with a gorgeous French witch would make anyone feel a little hotter.

“Here it is,” Harry announced, opening a door for Fleur.

Word around Hogwarts said that the best place to take your significant other to a date was Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade. Once he managed to peer inside, Harry’s world was immediately assaulted with bright colors.

The walls were painted in a mixture of blue and pink. Bows of the latter color were splayed everywhere; the walls, the tables, the chairs, even the windows. There were many other details that were so comparatively subtle that it passed his mind. In the end, the only way Harry could describe the setting was overwhelming.

Feeling like a deer in the headlights, Harry immediately tried to bring himself back to reality and led Fleur to one of the least visible tables.

Apparently, their entrance had not gone unnoticed by some of the patrons.

“I’m going to ze bathroom,” Fleur whispered heavily, so much so that Harry was momentarily taken aback. She usually used that kind of tone when they were doing their sessions.

Harry nodded and sat down awkwardly and made his best not to meet anyone’s gaze.

He grabbed the menu and saw that it mostly various types of tea and coffee for drinks, and an assortment of sugar treats for solids. He’d heard of other, colder drinks that were offered at the establishment but given the temperature, it seemed those were reserved for a comparatively hotter climate.

The sound of a slap made him come back to reality, courtesy of a Hufflepuff witch whose partner had been watching a more composed looking Fleur walk towards their table.

The French witch sat back down elegantly, yet even a brief glance at her direction told Harry that she was sending a calculative glare at every single corner of the… colorful establishment. She didn’t even sit down before she finally voiced her opinion.

“Eet is very cold outside, but zat didn’t mean we needed to come to ‘ell.”

Harry closed his eyes momentarily and sniggered. He couldn’t blame Fleur; the sheer intensity of the colors made his skin crawl almost immediately.

Fleur didn’t stop there. Her eyes traced every single detail around them and "Harry was sure that if she could have made a disparaging comment about every single one, she would have. Apparently, she was only sticking to the more important ones.

“Did nobody tell ze owner zat pink is to be used sparingly?” she snarked. “What is eet wiz you Eenglish? Don’t you know zat zere is a middle line between drab and ostentatiousness?”

“Pretty sure she’s just trying to make it look like a romantic area,” Harry commented. “Can’t fault an old woman for trying.”

“Ah, _mon chéri_. A proper romantic setting should be pleasant to look at, somezing to get you een ze mood, but not so gaudy zat eet takes attention away from your partner.”

“Pretty hard to not notice you, beautiful,” Harry flirted, earning a smile from Fleur, who then bit her lip as Madam Puddifoot started to walk at their direction.

The stout owner of the extravagant establishment immediately took out a quill and parchment. “Welcome! What can I get you m’dears?” she asked before she noticed Fleur. “Oh my! I did not know that I was serving a witch from Beauxbatons. I took some inspiration from the French, y’know!”

“Really?” Fleur drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. She was about to say something before a stern look from Harry stopped her.

“What would you like, beautiful?” asked Harry, looking at the menu.

“Tea, _s’il vous plaît_ ,” responded Fleur, not even looking at the menu.

Harry nodded. “I’ll have the same.” He watched Madam Puddifoot scribble their orders before going away to another table. “Tea? I thought you hated tea,” he questioned.

“I don’t ‘ate tea, _mon cheri_. Coffee is just much better… and I razzer not know ze taste of ze coffee of zis particular place,” she stated, sniffing haughtily. “I’m convinced eet will ‘ave more sugar zan ze entire Caribbean.”

Their drinks came just a short time later and just as Fleur had suspected, it was almost sickeningly sweet. Harry wondered just how she managed to keep on drinking it; the cold weather seemed to be the only viable explanation.

“So…” drawled Harry.

“ _Oui?”_

“I’ve been thinking about… well… about us,” he said, grabbing her attention. “Remember what you told me that first night?”

Fleur nodded. “I wanted you to take control from me because I trust you not to take advantage of eet. I ‘ave not come to regret zat decision, _Maître_.”

“Right… but there is the fact that I’m… well, I’m a little reluctant to do a lot of things with you.” He tried to find the correct words. “I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not a good dom.”

 _“Non!”_ Fleur almost shouted back. “You are good but you are still learning… I am also learning every day what eet is to be your sub.” She pursed her lips. “I do admit zat sometimes I want you to go… further wiz me.”

Harry nodded. “That’s… that’s something I have to get into too, I guess. I don’t want to do something that will truly hurt you.”

You can never ‘urt me, Maître,” she assured. “You could never ‘arm your Fleur.” She squirmed on her seat a bit, before a seductive smirk framed her lips. “Besides, I do ‘ave a safeword, non?”

“You do,” nodded Harry. “But by the time you say it, I may already have gone too far. The safeword is meant to stop everything.”

Fleur hummed. “You are correct, _mon chéri_. What eef zere was a secondary word? One zat allows me to communicate zat you can continue, but carefully.”

Harry had to admit that it was a good idea. “What are you thinking of?”

“ _Frais,_ ” said Fleur. “ _Froid_ is my hard safeword; it translates to cold. _Frais_ is less potent, but you can start to notice ze changes.”

“Very well then. _Frais_ and _froid_.”

Harry took a careful sip of the overly sweet tea, watching as Fleur tried to get herself comfortable on her chair. He noticed several irregular things; the way she was biting her lips not unlike her sessions, or how she started to let out barely audible whimpers.

“Maître… I need to go to ze bathroom", she half said half whimpered.

Harry furrowed his brow. “Again? Are you feeling alright?”

Fleur’s allure slipped a bit as she continued to chew on her bottom lip. Her face became a slightly flustered as she tried to position herself again. “I am fine, _Maître_ ,” she gasped.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” said Harry, a little more forceful.

Fleur did not say anything. She looked around, seeing that most of the others were occupied with their dates before she slowly opened her coat.

Harry watched as she rummaged though the layers of clothes, seeing a glint of the collar hidden beneath her scarf. That was not what Fleur intended to show however. Slowly, she pulled her undershirt and he finally saw a telltale piece of blue rubber covering her breast.

“You’re wearing your latex lingerie?!” Harry whispered.

Fleur nodded. “ _Oui, Maître._ ”

The Gryffindor looked around again to make sure no one could hear him. “Do you also have the…”

“ _Oui… ze panties…”_

“Are you serious? You didn’t tell me?”

Fleur quickly arranged her clothes until her fetish underwear was out of sight. “I didn’t zink eet would be zis difficult!” she whispered frantically. “Juno’s mercy… eet’s like being fingered in public!”

“And you still decided to wear them here,” reprimanded Harry, his stare – as well as something else – hardening as she started to rise from her seat. “Sit down,” he commanded, voice stricter than before.

“What!?” Fleur half whispered, half whimpered. “Eet’s clinging to me like –“

“Like a second skin,” Harry finished. “You already knew that, beautiful. Even before I bought them for you; you knew what latex clothes do.”

Fleur had the courtesy to look sheepish. “ _Oui_ , I knew… but I never zought –“

“That’s a mistake you need to learn from, then.” Harry did not know where this newfound boldness was coming from, but he could not stop now. “You’ll have to bear them until we go back to the castle. That’s an order… slave.” He hesitated briefly at referring to her like that, but it had its effect.

Fleur sat down, apparently seeing that demanding was not going to work; she flushed and let out a coy smile. Still, he did not relent and merely took out another small sip of the tea.

She sighed. “Alright. I will take my punishment.”

“I’ll take my punishment…” He dangled the last word.

“I will take my punishment… _Maître_.”

“Good,” said Harry while taking out some coins and leaving the appropriate amount on the table. “Let’s go then before both of us contract diabetes.”

Fleur smiled before getting up from her seat and walking outside with him. She pulled Harry towards the direction of the castle but he stopped her.

“What is eet?” she asked, still a little frustrated. “Ze castle is zat way.”

Harry smirked, suddenly feeling like one of the Weasley twins. “I know how to get back, beautiful. But I never said that we were going back right away.”

“But _Maître!”_ she whined.

“Hermione asked me if I could get her a new cauldron,” he drawled, ignoring her pleas. “Neville has been looking to replenish his personal stock; I need some new quills, and it’s only fair that we stop by Honeydukes to buy something nice for Luna.”

Harry almost sniggered at the despairing moans.

* * *

Fleur Delacour prided herself in being observant. At least observant enough that she could see when a person was clearly personally distressed; they were distracted quite often, slept less, and were generally higher strung than usual.

That was the look that Harry had been trying to hide the past few days. Sure, he was an early riser while she preferred to stay in bed for longer – especially with the ghastly temperatures – and he usually held a dourer and more serious demeanor than Luna and herself, but these past days he had been almost obsessed with the little book the Ravenclaw blonde had gifted him.

So drastic had been his change in mood that Fleur had started to find ways to make him respond, even if those actions were to earn her a punishment; acting out, being overly bitchy, anything that might make him respond. It was so jarring to see him be so indecisive after being so… _commanding_ back in Hogsmeade.

Finally, she just gave up on trying to talk; drastic action had to be taken.

The leather cuffs would probably feel comfortable on her skin, remembering the first time Harry had put them on her. The insides were fluffy in order to prevent chafing; she could see herself wearing these like accessories. The color did not fit really well with the rubber lingerie she decided to wear once again but she unfortunately did not have any more latex clothes at her disposal.

After her ‘punishment’, Fleur told herself that she would swear off the rubbery garments for good… a promise that only lasted for a couple of days before she decided to wear them again. They were like an addiction to her now; the fact that they looked so dazzlingly gorgeous was a nice bonus.

Fleur looked down at the chest containing their toys. Harry had forbidden her from opening it without his permission. Perhaps breaking that rule will finally make him snap out of his mood, she thought.

Looking inside, she spied several toys that immediately made her heartbeat quicken. There were things that she had already seen, such as the lovely leather sleepsack that Harry had used on Luna. To her excitement, she also saw a smaller one that was made out of blue latex. Less imposing than the leather one, but to Fleur it was much more beautiful.

She also saw many forms of restraints. Her old light blue handcuffs were inside, along with the sturdier cuffs Harry had used to bind her during their session in the Prefect’s bathroom. Chains and ropes were present in abundance, as well as an object she later identified as an armbinder.

There were also the gags. The ring shaped one that had opened Luna’s mouth lay alongside a couple of ballgags – one in red and another in black.

Fleur tried her best not to act like a child that had been left alone at the candy factory. She momentarily eyed the latex sleepsack but decided against it; she wanted her body to be displayed. Thinking quickly, the French witch grabbed four lengths of chain along with the same number of padlocks, the leather blindfold used on Luna, and after a moment of hesitation, snatched the red ballgag as well.

She took one good look at herself on the mirror and checked for last detail. Her silver hair was loose, falling all the way to her waist. Her lingerie was beautiful as always, reflecting the light from the candles she had lit up around the room. The cuffs and collar completed the look; a fetishized version of herself stared back, Fleur couldn’t help but lick her lips in anticipation.

With a wave of her wand the four lengths of chain attached themselves to their corresponding post of the bed. An experimental tug of her wand made sure they were nice and sturdy. She then did the same without her wand for extra reassurance.

Biting her lower lip, Fleur grabbed the smaller cuffs and started to secure them on her wrists. A padlock sealed them shut, making them impossible to remove without the keys… or a wand, if you were a witch, but it was more fun to believe that your freedom depended on a piece of metal held by someone you absolutely trusted.

The two larger cuffs were for her pale ankles. The contrast of black with her white skin looked pretty nice. Two more clicks from the small padlocks followed.

She held the red ballgag in her hand. Fleur had seen them on models before and had fantasized about putting one inside her own mouth. Now, as her fingers slowly squeezed the hard rubber ball, she felt a bit of hesitation. With her heart beating she willed herself to open her jaws, inserted the gag, and experimentally bit on it.

Her mouth felt full. There was not as much strain as she thought initially, but it did make it so it was impossible to close her jaw as one instinctively would. She looked over at the full-length mirror and momentarily admired her own form; collared, cuffed, her body naked except for the blue latex lingerie, and the red rubber ball that would make her speech useless.

The French witch fumbled with straps until they connected behind her head. Her hair was in the way at first, so she had to unbuckle it and refasten them when the leather fastenings were touching the back of her head.

Fleur laid on her back and first started to spread her limbs to the four corners, trying to see how comfortable she would be. After moving the pillows around to a more comfortable positions, she grabbed her wand and wordlessly waved it towards the chains near her feet.

The metal restraints came to life; slowly snaking towards Fleur’s ankles. A little part of her instinct was telling her to pull her feet away before being trapped but she remained still, watching as the two padlocks joined the ends of the chains to the D-rings, leaving her legs helplessly splayed apart. The only thing protecting her sex from the world was the tight, blue rubber underwear that showed almost everything while still leaving something to the imagination.

With her heart beating, she pointed her wand at her left and watched as the chain also trapped her wrist. Now only her right hand was left. Another flick of her wand and the last chain was dragged towards it but stopped just enough so she could lock the last padlock with her hand.

She bit hard into the ballgag as she concentrated fully on her wand and feeling magic on her fingertips, she levitated the piece of wood onto the nightstand. It was definitely a lot harder to use wandless magic, and she doubted she’d ever go without her trusty wand, but she was still making a point to get better at it.

Fleur was getting tired, but she still managed to get enough raw magic to manipulate the blindfold so it settled over her blue eyes.

Her world was now dark. Bound and helpless; the only senses that she had left were her hearing, and her smell, and her _touch_. She tugged on her restraints, playfully at first before giving more force to her struggle. The lack of sight made her breath become even heavier.

 _‘Did Luna feel this way back then?’_ It was as if everything she could feel was increased. The lovely feel of latex on her skin was enhanced, making it feel even more pleasurable than normally. Unlike the trip to Hogsmeade, the constant arousal was now very welcome and she wanted more… more.

Fleur was already sweating before she noted that her hips and chest were moving, trying to rub her nipples and sex against the sensual clothes. It was with great frustration that realized that the lingerie could only do so much.

Slumping down on the comfortable bed, she thought only of one thing.

 _‘Hurry back,_ Maître _!”_

Unfortunately for her, it took quite a while for him to get back. Long enough to regret putting on a ballgag for such an extended period of time.

The drool was the first thing – and most embarrassing thing – she noted. Even lying down it was almost impossible to stop her mouth from generating it. Gravity did its thing, thankfully, most of it went back down. She could only imagine what would happen if she were standing upright or, even worse, facedown.

The ache started soon after. It was not so bad; the ball was not as large as some of the other ones she had seen in the magazines. She tried to think if there were any spells that might make the act of wearing such a gag again easier in the future.

In her boredom she tried to think about Luna and her time with the sleepsack. Just how accepting the petite blonde had been after an extended time in bondage. How she had accepted everything from her feet to her throbbing core. Fleur realized that now she was beginning to hope for _any_ new sensation.

Still, despite all the complaining of her situation, Fleur had to admit that this level of restrictive bondage was… _thrilling!_ She couldn’t believe just how much she had progressed from just a few months ago; she doubted that it was even possible to go back to just binding her own hands in front with blue cuffs in front of her when these new heights were so exciting.

There was something so profound about being so exposed, so helpless and bare that exhilarated her. Fleur knew that this was something that could be shared with another so easily, but her _Maître_ was different.

Harry. Harry James Potter – her _Maître_ and owner. Her Harry who she trusted to take care of her. Her Harry who treated her like a slave and a princess all at once. Her Harry who knew her and her desires so well.

Her Harry who had been so distant as of late.

 _‘I’m yours_ Maitre. _Just say anything and I’ll do it. Please tell me what is wrong and I’ll help you.’_ Thought Fleur, using her feelings to struggle against the strict bindings; a way to release frustration and lust all at once.

She did not count how long it had taken for him to come back. Fleur could only surmise that it had been around an hour until the door creaked open.

“Hey beautiful, sorry I’m –“ His voice cut off. Fleur couldn’t see but she was almost sure that he was momentarily stunned at the way she had chosen to present herself.

“Fleur… what the hell?” he asked calmly.

Fleur tried to say something, but she’d momentarily forgotten about the red ball in her mouth and it all came out as an unintelligible garble of noises. After her futile attempts at communication, she started to struggle gently and moan. It took a while for Harry to finally come to her aid and soon her black world turned to life as the blindfold was taken off.

“Fleur! Are you mental?! Do you know how dangerous it is to do self-bondage without any supervision?! You could have damaged your muscles! The air flow may have been cut off! How could you be so reckless?!”

At hearing his words, Fleur had to admit to feeling a little shame but it was nothing compared to what she wanted to tell him. Unfortunately, Harry decided not to take out her gag along with the blindfold and her lips produced only incomprehensible babble.

She lay silent as Harry started to check her body. To her chagrin, he did not touch her like he usually did, but rather as a medic with a patient.

“Do you feel any pain?” he asked and she shook her head. Her jaw did feel a little sore from the ballgag, but it was nothing too painful.

“Beautiful,” drawled Harry in that commanding tone she loved so much. “I really need to go to the bathroom, so you have around two minutes to come up with a really good explanation for putting yourself in this amount of danger.” He stood up and started to walk towards the bathroom. “If you’re in pain, scream twice and I’ll come.”

She did not need to, that did not stop her mind from racing through several ways she could express what she wanted to say; no way to put her feelings to words.

 Once Harry came back, he finally started to fiddle around with the straps that secured the ballgag. “I wanted this to be a surprise. I was pretty sure you would like it. Guess now I know that I was right.” Once she felt Harry had undone the bindings, she used her tongue to push out the red ball.

“Zank you, _Maître,”_ she slurred. It hurt a little to close her jaw again after having it be forced open.

Harry sat down besides her, putting a cold hand on her stomach. “Now… you were going to tell me what in Merlin’s name possessed you to not only disobey my order about not opening the toy chest, but also forget the ‘safe’ part in ‘safe, sane, and consensual´?”

“I…” Fleur tried to find the right words. “I… I’ve felt so alone, _Maître_ ,” she confessed and to her surprise her breath got caught up in the words, she could even see her vision get a little blurry. “What is eet? I try to get you to talk, but you’ve been… closed.”

“Fleur,” Harry sighed. Fleur guessed that he was also trying to find the correct words. “I won’t lie to you – something’s come up… but it doesn’t mean that anything between us has changed.” Something told Fleur that it was a half-truth. “I need to find out more about it.”

“ _Maitre_ … _mon cheri…_ ‘Arry,” continued Fleur feeling a couple of hot tears leaving her eyes. “I trust you, ‘Arry… I trust you like I’ve never trusted anyone before. Why don’t you trust me ze same way? A dom should trust ‘is sub, _non_?”

Harry bit his lip, looking like the words actually stung him. “I’m sorry, Fleur. I… I do trust you. This is something that I must confirm with someone first.” He gave her a sweet kiss. “I promise you I’ll tell you everything, my love.”

“ ‘Arry…” Fleur moaned. “I need you too. I zought zat zis would get your attention. I’ve broken ze rules… so please tease me, punish me, Mon Dieu spank me eef you must, just please do somezing wiz me!"

Harry took a deep breath; many features started to tighten as if he was in deep concentration. He looked as if he wanted to say something but could not get it out. Fleur felt his hand start to caress her stomach for a few minutes. She closed her eyes as all thoughts were frustrations were slowly being driven away.

“Beautiful.” His hand stopped moving. “I have not told you anything because I did not wish to worry you. There’s been… something I have found out recently but I will not say it’s definitive,” he said, eyes hardening. “I need to speak to Sirius.”

“For now, however,” he drawled before she could say anything. “I must answer this with a punishment. I need you to think more with this,” he touched the top of her head, “than with this!” The hand near her stomach now grabbed her latex-clad crotch. She let out an involuntary gasp, yet even then she could feel how hot her core was getting.

“I… I understand, _Maît –“_ She was interrupted by Harry jamming the ballgag firmly in her mouth. Fleur moaned, feeling the straps being refastened behind her head.

“Beautiful,” said Harry, his tone now softer as he caressed her tresses, “I need to go speak with Sirius. I promise you I will tell you everything soon… okay?”

Fleur nodded shakily. She tried to move her finger in the right direction to the nightstand where she had left both her wand and the keys to the padlocks. Harry looked before chuckling a bit more darkly than she was used to.

“I don’t think so, beautiful.” His hand left her hair and groped her breast. Once again, she gasped at the intimate act; both in surprise and excitement. “I told you that you need to be punished. You decided to put yourself in this situation and now you’re going to endure it,” Harry told her with a look that seemed to say ‘it’s your fault’. “I thought you had learned your lesson from Hogsmeade.”

Fleur almost snorted. Stop wearing the things she liked and limiting the boundaries of her kinks? Never! She wanted more and more each day! Seeing all the fun toys inside the chest only made her want to go further.

“You’ll remain like this until I return,” he said before taking out his wand and conjuring a small dragon Patronus. “I’ll bring someone to babysit you while I’m away.”

 _‘Luna?!’_ The thought of the blonde oddball “babysitting” was… interesting to say the least. Luna wasn’t even a dom. Then again, Fleur supervised her last time and she’s not a dominant either.

They spent the next few minutes in silence. Fleur closed her eyes and enjoyed Harry’s teasing; he mostly caressed her hair but his hands would lightly touch her legs and what lay between them from time to time. She could not help but whine – she wanted more!

There was a light knock on the wooden door and Harry stood up from the bed swiftly to open it. Her suspicions had been true; Luna almost jumped inside the room.

“Good morning, Master!” she chirped before looking at Fleur’s direction. “Good morning, slave!”

Harry chuckled. “Hello, Luna. I guess you decided on ‘Master’?”

“Yes. I believe it was the most appropriate term for you, Master,” responded Luna as she started to take of her robes, followed by her vest and shirt. She continued by taking off her shoes and skirt (Fleur noticed that she still didn’t have socks). Each piece of cloth was neatly folded and placed upon a table. The last pieces to be removed were her underwear. Fleur briefly marveled at just how confident the airy blonde was when revealed her bare body.

Harry’s face betrayed no emotion as Luna knelt before him, fully nude and willing. He did raise an eyebrow when, with both her hands in front of her, she offered the green-eyed Gryffindor her wand.

“Am I doing this correct, Master?” asked Luna. Her submissive voice sounded adorable to Fleur. “I saw it in the illustrations that this is how you offer things to your Master.”

“I… it’s alright, Luna… but why are you giving me your wand?” asked Harry.

Luna smiled dreamily. “I don’t need a wand when my Master takes care of me.”

 _‘Damn… that was good! How come I didn’t think of that?!’_ Fleur eyed her own wand on the nightstand. Luna was right; she didn’t need it when Harry was taking care of her.

Harry hesitated a moment before he grabbed Luna’s wand and held it in his hand. “Thank you for putting your trust in me. I won’t betray it.”

Luna seemed to swoon at the contact. Fleur couldn’t help but feel a little left out and gave one vicious tug to her restraints. Soon, two pair of eyes concentrated on her.

“But,” continued Harry before giving Luna her wand back. “I’d prefer if you kept it for now. You may need it for any emergency since I won’t be here.”

Luna took her wand before giving a confused look to Harry. “You won’t be here, Master?”

“Right,” said Harry with a firmer tone. “I guess I should tell you that I didn’t call you here for a session, Luna. I need someone to take care of beautiful for a while.”

If Luna was displeased, she did not show it. “Oh… that’s great, Master. I will not disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” responded Harry. “Beautiful here earned herself this punishment. You are not to take off her bindings unless she says her safeword. Do you remember her safeword, Luna?”

“I do! That French word, right?” she asked.

“Correct. _Frais_ if she wants to take it slowly, _froid_ if she wants to stop completely. If she moans three times through her gag it also counts. When I come back, I think we should also talk about your other safeword.”

“Alright, Master,” nodded Luna. Fleur could see the barely contained excitement behind those silver eyes and she shivered slightly, remembering the things she had done with Luna last time.

Harry then walked towards the nightstand and grabbed the rosewood wand and held it in his hands, looking directly into her sapphire eyes. Fleur felt insecure at first; the wand was her connection her magic, her heritage, her grandmother… her pride. Holding her breath, she nodded and watched as Harry gave it to Luna.

“This is Fleur’s,” he said to the dreamy blonde. “Take care of it as if it were your own. Take care of it as if it were Fleur herself.”

Luna grabbed the wand delicately. “I will, Master.”

The initial trepidation that Fleur felt started to drift away seeing how caring Luna was handling her wand. It was only fair; Luna was willing to do it herself. She was willing to give her connection to magic to their dom and the French witch would not allow herself to be left behind.

“Oh, and Luna?” said Harry as he started to put his robes back on. Both Fleur and Luna paid attention at what he said next. “If you want to have fun with beautiful, you have my permission... within reason, of course.” He looked over at her. “It’s only fair; isn’t it, beautiful?”

Fleur barely heard Luna’s excited squeal as her mind rushed through all the things she had done with the Ravenclaw back then… and all of the things Luna could do with her now.

_‘Juno save me!’_

“I’ll be back later… I expect the two of you to behave or you’ll be in for some punishment,” Harry commanded and walked towards the door. The barely audible creaking ended with a loud click as it was shut.

As if on cue, Luna whirled around to face her, flashing a smile. Fleur had never seen a gesture so cute and yet so devilish at the same time. The nude Ravenclaw skipped to the nightstand before carefully putting both wands on top. Then she almost jumped on the bed to join the bound captive.

“Oh wow!” exclaimed Luna, her silver eyes feasting on Fleur’s restrained form. “So pretty!”

Fleur was about to respond but once again only garbled words came out; the gag was still taking some time to get used to.

Fleur closed her eyes and let herself go, content to enjoy the dainty hands that were curiously exploring her body. Luna’s touch was different from Harry’s. His was slow, confident, and dominating; hers were quick and excited. Still, Fleur would take any kind of stimulation right now; she needed release so bad.

Luna fingers eventually found Fleur’s tits but the blonde seemed a more interested in the bra than what lay beneath.

“Shiny,” said Luna. Fleur opened her eyes to see what the blonde was doing. “I think I can see my reflection.”

“Eet’s meant to be shiny.” That was what Fleur tried to say but the ball in her mouth once again destroyed her words.

“I’m sure it is,” responded Luna, much to Fleur’s astonishment.

“You can understand me?” asked Fleur, barely even understand what came out her mouth.

“Of course; it’s not that different from Goobledegook. Daddy and Mommy taught me when I was six,” responded Luna. Fleur was not sure what to think about her usual voice that – in her opinion – sounded lovely in her native French language, was being compared to a language that was even more crude than English.

Still, it was nice to have someone understand her jumbled verbiage for the moment. “Can you take ze gag off?” she tried to ask.

Luna debated for a moment. “Oh… no,” she responded. “I think it looks quite charming on you, slave.” Fleur’s eyes narrowed a bit. When did this cute little witch get so confident all of the sudden?

Fleur grumbled but tried to maintain her dignity at being denied by a witch almost four years her junior. She huffed and slumped back on her bonds, trying to enjoy as Luna caressed her latex-clad breast. Quick pecks from the blonde’s lips touched her stomach and the valley between her breasts.

The French witch started to breathe heavier as Luna’s other hand decided to go from one of her breasts, to her stomach… and lower… and _lower_. She took one big, shaky breath when she felt those petite fingers started to give feather like touches to her core.

 _‘Yes… oh, Venus yes!’_ thought Fleur as the blonde seemed to take interest in the neediest part of her body at the moment. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had orgasmed; Harry had been so _hard_ to convince these last few days.

She lightly opened her eyes to see that Luna was concentrating almost fully on pleasing her. The same dreamy smile was plastered on her face as she continued to work her fingers over the latex that covered Fleur’s most sensitive areas.

The rubber not only did not impede pleasure from reaching her, it enhanced the feeling. Latex was so _good_! Not just for fashion, but also to use it during their little games. She truly needed to buy more. ‘ _I’ll impress Harry next ti –‘_

 Her thoughts were interrupted as Luna decided to get a little bolder with her touches. Feather light caresses became firmer and the pressure was really getting to Fleur. Behind the rubber, she could feel her core start to get wet.

“Blue looks very good on you,” said Luna. To Fleur, the tone didn’t seem like it came out of someone that was fingering her pussy. “Ravenclaw has blue as well, but it’s not as nice as this shade.”

Fleur huffed. _‘Of course. Everything that Hogwarts does, Beauxbatons can do better!’_ She took one big lungful of air and hitched it when Luna pressed tightly into her pearl. Whether the younger witch knew what she was doing or her enthusiasm made up for inexperience, she did not care, she just wanted a climax, and she wanted it now!

Luna’s ministrations became bolder and bolder every second. Touches became full on kneads and rubs and the effect was almost instant. Within a few minutes, Fleur could feel the distinct feeling of an orgasm coming.

“More,” she moaned behind the gag as she anticipated the sweet release. _‘I’m almost there… just a little bit more!’_. Fleur let out a shivering gasp before firmly biting down on the hard rubber ball. Closing her eyes, it was like she could see the end of a very dark tunnel.

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Luna and the next thing Fleur notice – or _didn’t_ notice – was that the blonde had suddenly withdrawn her fingers right as she was on the cusp of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Fleur eyes immediately opened as she watched the Luna’s slightly horrified voice. “What is eet? Go on! I’m so close!” she tried to scream.

Luna’s silver eyes pierced Fleur’s before she gave her reasoning. “I remembered that Master told us that we shouldn’t get release without his permission.”

 _‘What!?’_ Fleur’s mind raged, her gaze fixed on the fingers that had been giving her great pleasure, expecting them to continue as if nothing had been said, only for them to stay still. _‘Is… is she serious? No… no, no, no!’_

She screamed on her gag, angrily demanding for Luna to continue on. Yet as incomprehensible word after incomprehensible word left her mouth it seemed as though the dreamy Ravenclaw just stood still. Fleur could see a look of sympathy or… pity… in those silver orbs, but her requests still went unfulfilled.

It became apparent after a while that she – Fleur Isabelle Delacour, champion of Beauxbatons – had just been edged by Luna Lovegood.

She continued to scream and moan but the demands and insults were now in French. Deep down she knew just by looking at Luna’s eyes that there would be no release for her and the words were now said in anger and frustration rather than a plea for pleasure. She couldn’t believe it! She had just been denied by a child!

“I’m s-sorry,” Luna muttered meekly. “I forgot.” She continued to make excuses but Fleur could barely be bothered to pay attention. The feeling of the coming orgasm slowly receding away left a bitter taste in her mouth.

A furious desperation ate at Fleur as she could feel release slipping away. Soon, along with the curses leaving her gagged mouth, she started to struggle like a madwoman, tugging at the chains the restrained her hands. Knowing that it was useless, she began to thrust her entire pelvis to the air and back, hoping that the skin-tight latex would be able to be enough stimulation to finish the job.

It was not. The sensation of her libido slipping away felt like a door was being slammed shut in front of her. She needed to cum so bad!  Angry blue eyes turned towards Luna accusingly.

“I… I didn’t mean to do it,” gasped Luna. “I didn’t know what I was doing!”

Eventually, Fleur felt her anger start to recede; it was hard to keep the ire burning as she continued to see Luna’s crestfallen expression. She took a few deep breaths to calm down but the sting of her lost pleasure did not want to go away.

“Harry is our Master. He told us that we needed his permission for _that_ ,” justified Luna. “I can’t disobey him. Only bad witches disobey their Master; I am not a bad witch.” Her gaze pointed towards the ceiling. “I have not touched myself ever since Master ordered me not to, even when I wanted to really badly. I don’t think you would want to disappoint Master, would you?”

_‘No, but you didn’t need to edge me!’_

“Take off my gag,” Fleur commanded. This time, Luna did not object to unbuckling the leather straps, making it possible for the red rubber ball to be forced out.

“Ah… zat zing looks lovely but eet can really start to ‘urt your jaw after a while,” said Fleur, taking a moment to flex her jaw to prevent any more soreness before looking back at Luna. “You are right; _Maître_ did tell us to not orgasm wizzout permission, but eet was still mean to do zat.”

“I forgot!” responded Luna. “Your panties looked so lovely and I couldn’t resist touching them!”

Fleur snorted. “Well I cannot blame you for zat. Zey are gorgeous, are zey not?”

Luna nodded frantically, looking like she just wanted to feel the rubber once again.

The bound witch swallowed her pride. “Eet cannot be ‘elped, zen. I just ‘ope we can convince _Maître_ to give us permission when he comes back. Ask ‘im in zat cute voice you do – no one can resist eet.”

“Huh?”

“Just ‘elp me convince ‘im!”

The blonde nodded again. “I’ll try.”

“ _Bien!_ Now let me recover. Eet is not fun being edged, I’ll tell you zat,” she half-snapped and regretted it almost immediately when she saw Luna hang her head once again. It did not last very long; a small almost immediately appeared on the blonde’s face.

Fleur watched as Luna’s expression suddenly turned as her face lit up. The French witch could almost see the lightbulb appear on top of the Ravenclaw’s head.

“I can make it up to you!” sang Luna, as if the previous mood had never even been there to begin with.

The bound Veela furrowed her brow. “ ‘Ow? I don’t know eef zere is a way to make eet up to me for denying me my pleasure.” The words came out harsh, but she had a right to be pissed.

Luna giggled. “There are other ways to receive pleasure,” she said before sliding off from the bed and kneeling between both of Fleur’s feet.

Fleur briefly recalled last session and Luna’s little tendency for her feet. “Please don’t tickle,” she half pleaded to the blonde.

The Ravenclaw giggled. “I won’t be doing that,” she said while delicately grabbing Fleur’s right foot and started to rub, her fingers almost magically being able to find the most sensitive spots.

 _‘A massage? Well… this is pleasant,’_ thought Fleur; the ruined orgasm was still fresh in her mind but she had to admit that the resentment was slowly leaving now with the new ministration that Luna was giving her.

If Luna had never done this before, then she was a natural. She knew just the right places to rub, the right amount of pressure needed for each spot, and the sore areas that made Fleur feel like she was being pampered once again. It wasn’t long before the denied Veela was letting out moans of pleasure, this time unimpeded by the ballgag.

After a few minutes, the blonde switched from Fleur’s right foot to the left and once again started the process. The French champion became aware of some of the liberties her caretaker was taking this time around. A brief glance showed her that Luna’s face was closer, small exhalations tickling her sensitive feet slightly. She could also feel nails tracing her toes, even at some point feeling the distinct texture of lips.

It mattered little; the fact that Luna seemed earnest in wanting to make up to her – not to mention that the massage was quite pleasurable – was more than enough for Fleur.

“Eet’s very nice. Zank you,” she murmured, her posture relaxed once again. Even without seeing the blonde, she could almost feel Luna’s face brightening. The barely audible giggle was evidence enough.

“They are very beautiful,” responded Luna. “I don’t think I’ve seen a better pair than yours.”

Fleur bit her lip. “You know – I’ve ‘ad men and women of all ages admire my ‘air, told me zat my legs are stunning, my eyes beautiful, and my face perfect… but I zink you are ze first to compliment my feet.”

“Feet are pretty,” stated Luna matter-of-factly. “More people should examine and take care of them more than they do, I believe.”

“I could sure use a nice pedicure right now. _Zut_ , I zink I’ll need a full body treatment after I’m done wiz zis tournament,” said Fleur before looking back at Luna. “Going back to ze matter… feet? Does ze smell not bother you? What about eef zey are dirty?”

“I like the smell if it’s not too strong, but I will admit that I prefer to avoid dirtiness. Clean and soft are best,” responded Luna, her index still tracing Fleur’s right sole, her face just an inch from it. “May I?” she asked with an uncharacteristically timid voice.

Fleur couldn’t help but be amused; even bound it was clear that she was more dominating than her caretaker. She couldn’t deny Luna her wish with that tone. “Go on. Just no tickling.”

Luna nodded before she cautiously closed the gap and start by planting small kisses on the ball of Fleur’s foot. The bound witch could feel the uncharacteristic nervousness coming from the blonde. It was understandable when one starts to open up about their kinks. She remembered a few weeks back when she first donned her latex lingerie and the feelings she experienced: excitement combined with fear and trepidation.

“Zat feels nice,” she encouraged. “Don’t be afraid, you can do more eef you want.”

Luna apparently took the words to heart because Fleur immediately felt a small tongue being dragged across her sole, leaving a hot, wet trail. It felt just as pleasant as before and this time she didn’t have to do any of the work. Content, she relaxed in her bonds and let the dreamy Ravenclaw worship to her heart’s content.

The blonde was almost insatiable, beginning with the sole, she quickly moved up to Fleur’s blue painted toes and started to suck on them one by one. Seemingly, she had special affection for the big toe, inserting it into her mouth and sucking it in a way that reminded Fleur of the way she worshipped Harry’s tool before the second task. From there it apparently turned into a competition of how many Luna could fit inside her small mouth.

To her surprise, Fleur actually started to silently moan, especially when Luna’s little pink muscle made its way between her toes; a soft spot that didn’t truly tickle her, but definitely stirred things between her legs once again.

 _‘I could actually get used to this; far more pleasurable than I thought it would be,’_ thought Fleur as she absentmindedly wiggled her toes to play with Luna’s tongue. She smirked, opening her eyes and gazed down at the blonde who looked oblivious to the world around her.

“Luna!” she said with some force. The younger witch did not stop her oral activity but did open her silver eyes to look at Fleur. “Ze ozzer one is lonely,” she said, tugging at the other foot.

Luna wordlessly shifted her place and was soon doing the same with Fleur’s remaining sole. The French Veela was a little more playful this time, tugging away her foot when Luna was ready to lick and wiggling her toes, tempting the blonde to try harder. The scar of the ruined orgasm was beginning to heal now; it was just very hard to stay mad at Luna. She had been right after all. This was fun.

“Do you want to try?” asked Luna once she had crawled back atop the bed, her blonde head resting on top of Fleur’s rubber-clad breasts.

“I’m not sure –“

“You’ll like it!” gushed Luna, sitting cross-legged to look at her own pair of feet. To Fleur’s surprise, they were pristine. “Mummy and I used to go around the forest near our home without shoes when I was younger. You notice a lot of things with your own two feet that you’ll never notice with your eyes. She taught me some spells to protect them and keep them clean.”

Indeed, despite knowing that Luna had gone barefoot or sockless since the day they Fleur and Harry met her a few months back, one would be hard-pressed to find any damage done to the pair of dainty feet. _‘I really need to ask about those spells, then. Might be useful for other things.’_

Fleur looked like she was about to deny her once again but another thought started to form in her mind. “Hmm… ‘ow about we make an… _exchange_ of sorts?” she proposed.

“Oh, what would you suggest?” Luna asked curiously.

Fleur swayed her chest a bit. “You like what I’m wearing, _non_? ‘Ow about zis – I agree to indulge in your leetle kink eef you agree to indulge in mine.” Seeing Luna’s face, she knew that she had the blonde in a receptive mood. “So, I get to choose what you wear, unless eet’s your obligatory ‘Ogwarts uniform of course.”

“I don’t have many clothes,” confessed Luna. “But I do like what you’re wearing.”

“Zat is not a problem. I’ll buy what you wear from now on, _oui_? Leave ze shopping to me.”

The blonde still looked a bit doubtful. “I think I know how to dress myself. Why do you think you can do better?”

Fleur huffed. “Never doubt ze fashion sense of a lady from France!” she declared haughtily before smirking. “Remember ze first time we were togezzer? When I painted your nails and fixed your ‘air? Zink about eet like zat.”

Looking at her toenails – still painted as silver as her eyes – Luna deliberated for just a few seconds, finger on her chin as if pondering complex philosophy. “I agree, then,” she said.

“Great choice! You will be ze envy of witches while you are under my care,” beamed Fleur, thinking about all of the things she could do with a willing young witch. She’d dressed up her friends at times, even little Gabby, but they could be really fussy at times. Luna would be different, of that she was sure.

Luna nodded before drawing her legs forward. Fleur now remembered the other side of their little deal and couldn’t help but feel a little nervous herself.

 _‘Well… here it goes.’_ Fleur started by kissing the surprisingly soft sole. They were far more delicate than would be expected from a witch that she had mostly seen walking around barefoot around the ancient castle.

Unable to hold her breath any longer, she filled her lungs. Fleur had been worried at first about the smell but, despite her eccentricities, Luna was obviously a witch that cared highly about personal hygiene – a weird specimen when it came from the normally savage English population – thus, the scent was actually quite mild. Her father’s artisanal cheese collection was far more potent and she had enjoyed most of them even as a child.

Feeling more confident now, she parted her lips and let her tongue get a taste of Luna’s small foot, which earned her a few giggles from the Ravenclaw. Remembering the time she had put Harry’s manhood in her mouth, Fleur moved on to the toes and started to suck on them, trying to remember everything Luna had done and replicate it herself while trying out some new stuff. Every once in a while, she used her teeth to bite down lightly. Never would she dare do this with _Maître_ but she was willing to be a bit more daring with the eccentric younger witch.

Luna’s moans had always been cute; almost like giggles but there was definitely a difference between the two and Fleur was noticing it now that she was apparently stimulating one of the blonde’s main erogenous zones. What was surprising is that even she started to feel a bit hotter; a quick movement of her hips confirmed that she was definitely a bit wet.

“You were really good,” complimented Luna before removing her feet. “I told you you’d like it!”

Fleur smiled. “Eet was… somezing else. We should always be open to new zings, I guess.”

Luna grinned before going back to her previous position, resting her head on Fleur’s breast. Her small hands still continued to roam at times but not in a more intimate manner, enough to keep the bound witch aroused yet not frustratingly so. Every once in a while, her eyes would wander towards Fleur’s collar with a look that seemed a little bit jealous.

 _‘Maître needs to get her one soon…_ _if she remains with us, that is._ ’ Her thoughts were interrupted by Luna’s finger prodding her bra once again, this time it wasn’t on the more sensitive places at least.

“Now that you’ll be telling me how do dress, will you give me things like this?”

Fleur grinned. _“Bien sûr!_ Not just what you wear. I zink your ‘air could use some curls – your eyelashes are long and pretty so we can do somezing zere as well… hmm… your lips would look great wiz some color. _Rouge? Bleu?_ I ‘ave a lot to experiment wiz!”

The blonde witch kept on dragging her finger on the latex. “I don’t think I’ll look as good in it as you. Daddy says I take after Mummy and she was small, so my chest will not grow as big as yours. Mummy was short, too – I don’t expect to grow much more than I am now.”

Fleur shook her head. “More zan a ‘andful is a waste! Your size does not matter. Fun zings come in small packages at times. I believe zat I can find somezing zat you’ll love.”

Luna smiled dreamily. “I think I will leave it to you. Make me a doll, or something else. Something that Master can be proud of.”

“You talk of yourself like you are an object. Zat is not ‘ow _Maître_ sees you,” commented Fleur.

“I don’t see being treated as an object like a bad thing. I often find that people care more about objects than they care about each other. If being an object makes me, Master, and you happy, then I’d be quite glad of being the best one there is.”

Fleur blinked. Quite a philosophy for a witch that was often looked as being a clueless idiot by most of her peers. Luna was a Ravenclaw for a reason, she must be there for a reason even if her brilliance was sometimes a bit hard to understand for most.

“You are very sure of zis,” said Fleur, trying to find the best way to say the following words. “Do you intend to stay wiz ‘Arry?”

“I do,” responded Luna. “I want to stay with Master… and you.” She snuggled her head in between Fleur’s breasts. “Nobody has treated me as well as the two of you. If I tried to talk to others about my interests, they’d laugh at me.”

Fleur swallowed a knot in her throat. “Many people do not understand. Zey can only see abuse – _Folie à deux_ – a shared delusion between people. Zey will never understand ‘ow _… liberated_ I feel when I am bound and controlled by ‘Arry, why I love wearing latex or ze delights of being spanked. I guess zey would feel ze same about someone wiz a predilection for feet and being completely restrained in leather.”

She could feel Luna nod between her breasts. If her body was not still bound, she would have hugged her. “But zat is what makes you and me and ‘Arry different… and eef I’ve learned anyzing zese past months eet is zat being different is great… and I say zat in more ways than one.”

They both stayed in silence for a moment before Luna spoke. “I don’t want to leave,” she said. “I know that I’m not as pretty as you… and I know that there are many witches that would throw themselves at Master – some of them not because of his wealth and status. That’s why I want to be the best witch I can be so I can be worthy of being Master’s property.”

Fleur closed her eyes and contemplated for a moment. She did not know where this relationship would take them but she did know that there was no way she’d break Luna’s heart without even trying. “You’re still young. Your beauty is yet to show eetself. I… I want you to stay, too.”

“But what will Har - Master say?”

“Oh, I believe we can both convince _Maître_ , _non_?” Fleur asked, her voice a bit more vivacious now. “You are mine as well. I’m not letting go of my new _modèle_ quite so easily. Besides, I zink I’m starting to develop a liking for foot massages.”

Finally, Luna giggled back in familiar tone. “I am quite flattered.”

“ _Bien!_ Now… I need to know somezing.”

“What is it?”

“About zese witches… ze ones zat you said don’t necessarily want _Maître_ for ‘is money and family.”

* * *

Master Zheng had said many times in the past that breathing is a good way to keep a clear mind, and keeping a clear mind meant more than inner peace; it meant that your judgement was clear enough to correctly analyze a situation in order to find the best solution possible. A calm person is less prone to mistakes and more towards success, be it a test, a battle, or an argument.

Harry Potter had been doing quite a lot of breathing recently. Especially now that he was facing the big door of the Room of Requirement.

Drawing one last lungful of cold air, Harry let his hand grasp the handle tightly and pushed it open. The first thing he heard was that familiar voice that had always been present since his earliest memories.

“Hey, Prongslet!” greeted Sirius. He had apparently already transformed the room to his desires considering the posters of bikini models that made it impossible to see the stone walls and bean bag sofas all over the place. Harry’s godfather was sitting on one of said sofas, reading – or more accurately, seeing – an adult magazine.

“Sirius,” Harry almost growled. He hadn’t done enough breathing, apparently.

“So,” said Sirius, grin still plastered on his face as he opened the magazine centerfold, “it’s your free day and the last task is still months away. Shouldn’t you and your lovely French temptress be out on a date before spending the night with some hot, steamy –“

This time Harry did growl, along with sending a tome directly at Sirius. The animagus caught it immediately, still grinning, before looking at the title and the smile quickly went away.

“When were you going to tell me?” asked Harry.

Sirius looked a little bit like a deer in the headlights. Harry could almost see the turning inside his head; trying to find the best way to explain why he’d never told his godson about the responsibilities of a lord, let alone the future lord of two ancient Houses.

After closing his eyes, Sirius finally ended his silence. “I guess I couldn’t keep it away from you forever, could I?”

“Right now, I’m asking myself why you would even hide it in the first place!” exclaimed Harry, trying but failing to calm himself.

Sirius put his hands up defensively. “Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger!” He let out a breath. “Look… Harry. I wanted you to live a normal life, living life like a normal teenager before I told you all about your – er… responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities?” snarked Harry. “Is that what they called a double marriage back in the olden days, Padfoot?”

Sirius snorted. “I guess that’s a sugarcoated way of saying it, but yes, marriage.”

Harry sighed. “I just only managed to get a girlfriend –“

“A smoking hot girlfriend.”

“Be serious!”

Sirius’ laugh returned. “Alright, Serious Sirius.”

Harry’s anger started up again. “Good! Now that I know the truth, I guess I better start getting used to the idea that I’ll have to marry _two_ women.”

“Well look at it this way,” offered Sirius, his voice sounding strangely genuine, “you already have one.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know if Fleur will agree to that particular arrangement. I’ve been trying hard to avoid the conversation, don’t want her to know yet.”

“Harry. Women are angrier when they find out things you didn’t tell them rather than you admitting it.”

Harry closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the previous days finally crashing all at once. “So… let’s say she does agree to it. What happens next? I have to find someone else – who will it be? Hermione?”

“Err… about that,” said Sirius. “I think it goes a little more complicated than that. Remember the Black family’s words?”

 _‘_ Tojours Pur – _Always Pure_.’ Harry nodded.

“My _mother_.” Sirius spat out the last word. “Made sure in her will that those words were very true for the next generation after me before she died. I can’t change those rules thanks to Gringotts, that’s a duty that will go to your son. You’re already scratching the line with being half-blood, but it’s under the condition that your wife and offspring be more… _pure._ ”

“Can I… _not_ marry?” asked Harry in a tired tone.

Sirius shook his head. “Not if you want to inherit House Black, you can’t. I mean I could take you off the inheritance… but it’d go over to the nearest male descendant, and the nearest male descendant is –“

“Malfoy. To hell with that.” Harry grimaced. “So I have to marry a pureblood, then?” Sirius nodded and he felt his headache grow even more potent. Who was there to marry? Ginny? No way! Pansy? Yeah, maybe if he wanted to commit suicide by wife-poisoning-your-dinner. Hannah? He’d never do that to Neville. Daphne?

Daphne.

“What about the Greengrass family?” asked Harry. Daphne would hate him but he was grasping at straws here.

“The Greengrass family? The only person who knows what Cygnus Greengrass thinks is Cygnus Greengrass,” responded Sirius. “I’m surprised. I thought you’d think of Ginny first.”

“She’s Ron’s sister,” said Harry. “And I’ve told you before, I’d rather not have Molly Weasley as a mother-in-law.”

Sirius shuddered. “Yeah, I’ve had enough overbearing women in my life to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”

Harry rubbed his temples before sitting down on one of the bean bags. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “What about the Potter family? Do they have any old timey laws about who precisely I can marry?”

“Nothing against Veela that I can remember. Your family never gave a damn about who they can and can’t marry.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” At least he could still have Fleur. Everything is better with Fleur around. He could trust her with so much and vice versa. Merlin, he could even trust her with another witch.

“Bloody fucking hell!”

Sirius almost jumped from the sofa. “Merlin, it’s not that bad! There has to be one nice witch you like!”

Harry almost didn’t hear his godfather amongst the gears spinning inside his head. The answer was so clear; it had always been there. “Sirius, what are the conditions for inheriting house Black?”

“Well, I told you – you have to marry a pureblood witch,” responded the animagus.

“Yes, I got that, but are there any more conditions?” asked Harry. He could almost see the pieces falling into place now. “Do they need to have any kind of extra wealth? Do they need positions on the Wizengamot?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “Far as I know the only thing that’s needed is for it to work is that she has to be Pureblood.”

Harry jumped from his seat. “Got to go! See you later!” He could still hear Sirius yelling behind him but he did not listen. The only thing that he had on his mind at the moment was to get back to his room.

Luna. The answer had always been there; she was definitely the easiest solution to this. Her family was of modest means just like the Weasleys, but the level of wealth still did not change her blood status. Harry knew that she was Pureblood.

But what would she think? Merlin, what would Fleur think? He didn’t want to bring Luna in at first, and now he was thinking of her as just a key to inherit the Black Family. She was a great friend and sub, but did that mean that they loved each other?

_‘I… I need to talk to them. They have to know. I need to tell them now.’_

* * *

“I need a drink,” sighed Sirius. Despite his reputation, he had never really been that much of drinker. It wasn’t really something he indulged in; far too much responsibility raising Harry that he couldn’t afford to crawl into a bottle. However, there were times that a grown man was in need of a bloody drink, and this was one of them.

“Butterbeer, Sirius?” asked Rosmerta with a wink. Usually Sirius would respond with a flirt but he wasn’t feeling it right now.

“Ale – no, scratch that – give me the whisky,” stated Sirius. Ogden’s would do; he couldn’t give a damn about the taste right now. “Leave the bottle, too.”

The burning sensation felt good for a while, enough to lift the Lord of House Black just a little from the numbness following the disastrous meeting with his godson but not good enough as to stop reminiscence about his fallen friends.

This was hardly the first time Sirius lamented the loss of James and Lily, but there were only a few times that he truly felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of looking after Harry. The first one was the night he held his godson; the weight had been enough to prevent him from following after the traitorous rat. The second time was when the Hogwarts letter had arrived.

Now, Sirius felt that weight settle once again, gnawing at his very core. This had been something he had wished to keep away from Harry for a later date. He wanted his godson to grow without the pressures of Wizarding nobility… just like Lily wanted to. Get a girlfriend, make some friends: live a little.

It hadn’t done much good. Harry had been everything but normal but at least that was something Sirius could at least understand. James hadn’t been very normal either. What worried him was the lack of people his godson kept around him. Secretly, he had hoped that Harry would get together with Hermione; she was so much like Lily in many ways. Not all, but enough.

Fleur Delacour had been a godsend. Finally, Harry was opening up his more emotional side. _‘And all it took was a mutual interest in the spicier things in life,’_ mused Sirius before taking another swig of the bottle.

And now he’d buggered that too.

“Good evening, Moody!” called Rosmerta besides Sirius, prompting him to send a lazy gaze to the grizzled Auror. Moody did not respond, he simply made his way towards him.

“Evening, Alastor,” greeted Sirius, voice slightly slurred. With some effort, he sat himself on the stool to try and look as dignified as possible.

“Look at you!” growled Moody. “A Death Eater won’t even need to use his wand. A well-placed knife on the back would suffice. Could you even raise your wand right now?!”

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. “I see no Death Eaters here.”

“Constant vigilance!” shouted Moody, sneer plastered on his face. “Just because you cannot see does not mean there is nothing there!”

Sirius grumbled. “What can I do for you?”

Moody took out a flask and drank generously, wincing a bit after swallowing. Odd, the grizzled veteran was not one for spirits; the constant paranoia made him swear off alcohol in order to be constantly prepared for any occasion. “I’m here to ask what you’ve been teaching the boy.”

“Offensive spells, mostly. Fighting and dueling… the usual stuff,” responded Sirius. “Mostly we try and prepare him for the specific challenges of the tasks but he comes up with most of the stuff himself.” He couldn’t the pride in his voice.

“Any particular spells he knows? Any aces up the sleeve?” demanded Moody in a way that started to irritate Sirius. What bug had crawled up Moody’s arse these past years? The man was always in your face but not this much.

Taking a swig off the whisky, he shot back. “Listen, Alastor – I’m not really feeling like daisies at the moment. Could you please bugger off?”

Moody sneered. “Dumbledore gave you the responsibility to look after Potter. Looking at you now I can’t help but think he made the wrong decision.”

Sirius grit his teeth, unable to prevent the blow to his ego. “I’m not your subordinate now. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Aye, you’re not my subordinate anymore, but I had the feeling that we were still on the same team. You were on my team when we took out Rookwood, remember? We’re still in this fight together.” retorted Moody before picking up his staff and going the exit.

Sirius grumbled and slumped back atop the counter. It would take a few glasses of water to prevent a hangover in the morning. Enough for him to remember that he wasn’t on that team that went to capture Rookwood.

Why had Moody said that? The whole report of Rookwood’s capture had been doctored in order to fool more of Voldemort’s spies. Sirius had been hiding with Harry in Hogwarts during that time but the Auror office kept on releasing documents to make it seem like he was still on the force. Surely Moody hadn’t gone senile. Merlin, the man had been the one to suggest it in the first place!

Sirius couldn’t help but ponder on it until exhaustion overcame him and he finally drifted off into slumber.

* * *

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